Goodbye, Halcyon Days
by Elysis
Summary: "She no longer lived, she only mimicked life" ; This is the story of a girl and her descent past the point of no return.
1. The Last Cousland

_**A/N** : When "Goodbye, Halcyon Days" made its way into my mind, I had no idea that I would get so wrapped up in it. I wanted to write something that stood out of all the other Alistair&Cousland fictions. And I did! Elizabeth grew into an amazing and dark character, but she also grew on me! I may not agree with every thing she did in this story, perhaps you won't either, but I can assure you that you will understand and perhaps end up agreeing with her on why she chose darker paths._  
_I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been one heck of a journey, for me and Elizabeth!_

_Reviews are always appreciated._

_Bioware owns everything._

_A special thank you to Tigress, my wonderful beta, who dealt with my grammar and who's support has been a bliss. _

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**1. The Last Cousland**

Crepuscule was falling on Highever. The grey shadows of night slowly wrapped the green expanse as the woods leisurely turned silent. The flat land stretched for miles with peaceful softness, and amidst of it all, stood the Cousland Castle, proud and tall.

Elizabeth walked through the castle of her father with a faint frown on her face. Her long brown hair cascaded on her strong shoulders down her back, gently swinging to the rhythm of her echoing footsteps. She was eager to get back to her room, for the end of the day had finished in frustration and disappointment. After her father had told her she was not going to battle alongside of her brother who was leaving tonight to join the King's army, she had had to retrieve her hound dog Cerberus from the larder and had to bear the cook's ear-piercing shouts.

She sighed and stopped for a second, stretching her sore back and taking a deep breath. Her day had begun so well : she had spent it riding her new horse, a dark brown stallion by the name of Russet. When the horse had come to the castle, the wranglers had declared him astray, too wild for anyone to mount. But Elizabeth had a way with horses, and had gained its trust and affection at a speed that had amazed everyone.

She had trained in the forest until nightfall by herself trying to improve her dual wield skills, while her four legged friend grazed grass where he could find it. For Elizabeth was nothing but this : a lone wolf, distant and mysterious, preferring the quiet solitude of the lands to the busy and eventful castle.

She suddenly pulled out of her musing as she heard her mother talking close-by. She walked towards the sound.

"Ah! There is my lovely daughter. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchen is handled?"

Elizabeth smiled. Her mother Eleanor had a way of speaking her mind, and with great eloquence. A talent she had not acquired : all she did was speak her mind, and rather bluntly.

"Nan's head exploded and the dog ate the kitchen staff" Elizabeth replied, and then added with a smile, "Yes Mother, all is well, dinner will be served according to plan".

As her mother introduced her guests, Elizabeth politely smiled : over the years she had managed to look alert, listen with one ear and when asked a direct question say something appropriate. As her mother carried on chatting, her thoughts drifted back to what her father had said to her, and about that strange other guest of theirs, Duncan, a Grey Warden. She had read a lot about their order, tales full of journeys and exploits, of sadness and glory : Fearless warriors doomed to sacrifice for a serene world. Dreaming of a life of adventure, she had read every book in the library she could lay her hands on, passionate about tales of magic and bewitched dragons. Duncan's offer of joining him and his order had been tempting, but, her duty lay at the castle.

"It's good to see you my Lady. You look as beautiful as ever".

Dairren's words, the son of her mother's guest, had taken her out of her reverie. Elizabeth had indeed grown into a beautiful woman. Her tall and slim figure gave her a royal and imposing presence, and yet her face preserved all of its childish youth. Hesitant, she raised her sparkling green eyes towards Dairren with inquiry, and simply thanked him. As the conversation drifted to the subject of marriage, Elizabeth's legendary impatience started to kick in and she shot a glare at her mother.

"How kind of you to remind me yet again how much grandchildren are more important to you then what is happening outside this castle".

And before her mother could reply, she hastily bid her leave to hurry to her brother's side. She had just turned 18, and her mother's restlessness to wed her had caused some friction between the two for quite a while now. "Must a woman's completeness only rely on a loving man?", she asked herself. She felt guilty snapping at her mother like that, but she could irritate her so sometimes! Shaking her head, she walked into her brother's quarter, where himself, his wife Oriana, and his son Oren were biding their goodbyes.

"Fergus!"

A genuine smile spread to her face as she greeted her brother and ruffled Oren's hair. She adored her brother, he was the only thing she had of a friend, and she looked up to him with respect and love. Seeing him off saddened her greatly.

"I wish I could come with you Fergus" she quickly added while crossing her arms, "But it seems Mother and Father have other plans for me, 'lady plans' if you will".

"Oh come on sister" Fergus replied, laughing, "don't be such a scoundrel. Time will come soon enough for you to draw your own path. Though, I too wish you would come along, who's going to watch my back while I fight?"

Oriana made a noise of disapproval. Elizabeth paid no attention to her.

"Just remember to swing your sword like I taught you and you'll do perfectly fine" she said with a laugh.

"Lies! It's not because you beat me at dueling once or twice that-"

"Once or twice?" Elizabeth cut with a grin on her face.

"Alright. Alright. Maybe more then you ought to. Never the less, don't embarrass me in front of my family."

As Elizabeth announced to her brother he had to depart tonight, she couldn't help but feel a light sting to her heart. Wishing her best to her brother, she hugged him goodbye and headed to bed early, as her father had asked of her.

Lying in her bed with a book on her lap, Elizabeth looked up and stared at the door in front of her. She couldn't help but have a bad feeling about her brother's early departure. She always had good hunches about everything and anything, and it was hard to surprise her. Rubbing her eyes, she blew the candle out next to her bed, and put her book aside. As she lay in the darkness of her room her thoughts drifted back to the Grey Wardens, and sleep slowly dawned on her.

* * *

Swords clang in the distance. Far away screams of pain and fear rang through the halls as Death scattered its cold breath within the ramparts of the castle. It had not been long after the departure of the last soldiers that Howe's man had assaulted the castle. They had stroke in the middle of the night when everyone would least expect it.

Elizabeth held her lifeless baby nephew in her arms, confused, terrified. His body was still warm and yet, his stiffness was unmistakable. She had been woken by Cerberus' barks, and then a servant had sprung into her room warning her of the attack, instantly killed by an arrow of Howe's man. Her mother was right : they were not attacking to take hostages. They were attacking to kill them all. Eleanor cried in pain.

"Oh, poor Fergus… Let's go, I don't want to see this!"

Elizabeth didn't understand. She couldn't understand. Howe's betrayal seemed so out of place, so confusing. What were his intentions? Why would he do this to an old friend? She ran through the halls, filled with rage and desperation, slicing through anything that came her way.

"We need to escape the castle. We need to leave now. Where is father? And where in the Maker's name is a Grey Warden when you need him?" Elizabeth spat with disdain.

In normal circumstances, her mother would have said something about her scorn tone , but she could barely scatter her thoughts.

"The servants' exit, like ser Gilmore told us. Let's go."

Corpses of Howe's men left a trail behind Elizabeth, tears falling down her pale cheeks. Her pain had transformed into a consuming fury of retribution, where each and every blow of her sword became more and more violent. Her face was spattered with her enemies' blood, her armor was stained, and her eyes had lost their usual spark. They had turned dark, and the only thing you could see in them was wrath, and ache.

And after what seemed like forever, Eleanor and Elizabeth, breathless and exhausted, arrived in a dim room where lay the man they had been looking for.

"Bryce!"

He stood in a pool of his own blood, fearful despair in his eyes, as life was slowly escaping him.


	2. A New Beginning

_**A/N** : The first four chapters are rather light. But I guarantee you, it won't last! After all, this is a tragedy. Reviews are always appreciated._

_Bioware's sandbox._

_Thank you Tigress for your amazing beta-work._

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**2. A New beginning**

Duncan stood by the fire, eyeing the distance from the cliff where they had set camp. Twilight was breaking. They had traveled for two days now, and in the morning he and the girl would arrive at Ostagar where men prepared for battle. When Duncan had arrived at the Cousland Castle, never had he expected for things to turn the way they had. The end of the family had been a tragic one, but in a way, it had brought the youngest of them to the Wardens, and he was grateful for that at least.

The girl had huge potential, but ever since they had been travelling together she had barely displayed any sign of emotion. Duncan had tried to talk to her about what happened with her parents, and had tried to offer consoling words, but she had turned into a wall of ice. He remembered their first encounter, where she had seemed so joyful and eager to learn about the Wardens. It seemed unreal that such a drastic change had happened in so little time.

Elizabeth had gone in the forest to try to find berries to eat for breakfast. She had found a bush near a small stream and had picked enough for Duncan and herself. The forest was serenely waking up, and the birds' cheerful singing had lifted the shadow off her heart for a little while. She kneeled down in front of the calm torrent to put some water on her face when she caught her own reflection. Her face had been cut, and she could see two separate markings that had already started to heal. One on her chin, and one under her eye.

"_A really strong woman accepts what she went through and is ennobled by her scars_" her father had once told her.

She lightly ran her fingers on the gash that came down to her upper cheek and sighed. She wouldn't let herself delve into what happened, and Duncan would want to leave as soon as possible. Grabbing her pouch full of berries, she hurried back to camp.

The sun had finally risen when the two companions settled back on their journey. The day was bright; it hadn't been that way since they had left Highever. And for the first time in two days, Elizabeth let herself enjoy the warmth of the sun on her skin.

* * *

Alistair had risen early in the morning. Duncan's new recruit would arrive any time and he had to prepare for the joining that would take place in the afternoon. But he had been charged to deliver a message to a mage, who, by all the Maker's will, was very, very bad-mannered.

"Listen. I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, ser mage, she desires your presence!"

The man standing in front of him simply would not hear him out.

"Should I have asked her to write a note?" Alistair continued, trying to repress a smile.

Besides the fact that the man probably felt insulted at the fact that Alistair was an ex-templar, his vexation amused the Warden.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes. Of course, I was harassing you by delivering a message. Uhuh."

Alistair heard the cling of heavy armor approaching them, but the noise stopped at a distance. _Probably a soldier not wanting to interrupt the discussion_. Alistair glanced at the newcomer to acknowledge him and what he saw completely took him by surprise. What he thought a "he" was in fact a "she". The young woman stood in the morning sunlight, a couple of feet away from him. Her long messy brown hair gave her an undisciplined look, and yet the allure emanating from her gave her an imposing presence.

"Your glibness does you no credit"

_Now that was just rude_, Alistair thought, turning his attention back to the mage before him.

"Here I thought we were getting along so well! I was going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one."

A delicate chuckle came ringing to his ear. As the mage marched away injuring Alistair, the Warden turned to where the laugh had come from and faced the girl, who had walked up right to him.

"You know… One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together" Alistair declared with sarcasm and a devastating smile.

As the woman in front of her raised a graceful eyebrow at him, Alistair couldn't help but notice that she was of an astonishing beauty. Her face had two distinct cuts, probably a day or two old, and yet it added to her looks in a way that was indescribable. It was difficult for Alistair to believe the person in front of her had laughed, because her eyes gave off a feeling of hopelessness. Her silence was also unsettling.

"I don't believe we've met. I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?" Alistair asked.

"Well you don't see me swinging about a big piece of wood now, do you?" the young woman replied. "I'm Elizabeth Cousland"

_Even her voice is attractive._ He frowned at his own thought. _Easy now, Alistair. Focus._

She raised her arm towards him. Alistair remembered what Duncan had told him about possibly bringing back the youngest of the Cousland : Elizabeth was a lady. The young Warden took the woman's hand and brought it to his lips. The second he let go of it and looked up at her, she had a mixed look of amusement and annoyance. Her whole body had stiffened.

"You know, a simple hand shake would have suffice. I am no Orlesian princess" She said, quickly putting her hand behind her back with a frown.

_Alistair, you big twat__,_ he thought, mentally punching himself. His face had turned a shade of light red and he started babbling as the young woman looked right into his eyes, coldly.

"I… Sorry I didn't mean…I just thought… I mean I…"

Elizabeth cleared her throat, which brought him right back to attention.

"Duncan told me you were the one I should direct my questions to."

"Ah, yes!" Alistair hastily replied, happy to see she had changed to subject. "As the junior member of the order I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the joining."

The Warden felt ashamed of what had just happened, so in hope of lightning up the mood he tried to make conversation.

"You know it just occurred to me that there've never been many women in the Grey Wardens! I wonder why that is…"

Elizabeth studied his face for a second. She didn't know if she should be extremely offended or simply pleased.

"Probably because we are too smart to launch ourselves in violent battles that will eminently end in our glorious death" she finally said with a lopsided smile.

The sudden change in her behavior confused Alistair. For a second he thought he has been about to end up with a red hand-shaped mark on his cheek, but her abrupt mockery had really come out of nowhere. Her eyes had also suddenly cleared from the sad veil they held, but only for a few seconds.

"So what does that make you?" he asked with a laugh.

"I'm not here because I want to be."

Her tone had become hard. But her voice had broken at the last words of her sentence. Alistair felt like a complete idiot. It seemed whatever he tried to say or do, he was doing it wrong. A couple of seconds passed without the two of them saying a word, so Alistair signaled to Elizabeth the way and they started walking towards the Warden's camp.

"So, I'm curious. Have you ever encountered darkspawn before?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"When I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how much stress it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another."

As they walked through camp and Alistair told Elizabeth about him being a templar before he joined the order, about the Wardens and the king; he couldn't help but admire the girl before him. She remained rather silent, taking in every word he said. He sure was a chatty one, but the fact that she barely said anything bothered him a little.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Alistair questioned abruptly as they stopped in front of the Grey Warden's camp fire.

Elizabeth gazed at him and raised her lightly frowning brows.

"When your words are less valuable then silence, isn't it best to remain unvoiced?", she replied, before walking away to Duncan's side.

Alistair looked at the girl with round eyes.

_Did she just imply I talk too much?_

And as he joined Duncan and the three recruits who were ready to take part of their joining, Alistair realized that if this woman survived the ritual, she was going to give him trouble. And slicing headaches.


	3. Stubborn and Bossy

_**A/N :** I take some liberties from the game to try and write a *somewhat* original tale. Also because Elizabeth likes to do things her way, she's rather obstintate like that :)_

_Thank you Tigress for the beta work,_

_And thank you, Bioware. _

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**3. Stubborn and Bossy**

"I will NOT let this dying man by himself in the wilds!", Elizabeth yelled in irritation at Alistair.

The young Warden and the three recruits had gone deep into the forest and had come across corpses of soldiers who had been attacked by darkspawn. They had found one alive, but terribly wounded.

"I bandaged him up, he'll be fine" replied Alistair patiently. He was discovering yet again his companion's short-temper, and of course her anger was directed at him, again. Daveth and Jory looked at one another awkwardly. This was the second time Elizabeth and Alistair were at each other's throats since they had entered the forest, the first one being about whether or not they should cut up the wolfs that had attacked them and take their pelts.

"I'm sorry, are you a naïve blind or a complete fool?"

Alistair didn't let the insult affect him. But he was starting to lose patience.

"Alright, listen to me Elizabeth. We are into the wilds to collect darkspawn blood and find the treaties. This is what we were sent here for, and this is what we are going to do. This man will be able to handle himself properly back to camp, it is not far away."

Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose between her two fingers. She had always been impatient, but her current short-temper surprised even herself. She took a deep breath to calm down.

"The man can barely stand on his own. I'll take him back to camp and I'll catch up with you shortly after. You said it yourself, camp is not far away."

Alistair stared at the young woman with hard eyes. Maker's breath she was a pain in the ass.

"I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you I'm bringing this poor man back to camp, whether you like it or not", Elizabeth quickly added.

And as soon as that was said, she heaved the wounded man, putting his arm around her shoulders to help him walk, and off she went.

"An entire patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn!" Jory exclaimed, looking in the distance of the forest.

The young Warden didn't have time to handle his rebellious companion. He tried to sooth Jory's fear but in vain. He couldn't concentrate. He wasn't worried about Elizabeth's fighting abilities. But if darkspawn ambushed her while she was by herself, she wouldn't make it for sure.

"Daveth, can you please catch up with Elizabeth and accompany her?"

She was already out of sight but there was only one way back to camp. So Daveth ran in that direction. When finally he caught up with her they already had arrived in front of the wooden gates of camp, where the guards took the dying soldier to where the other wounded men were being attended to.

"You know" Daveth said to Elizabeth "You and Alistair really bicker too much. You remind me of my grandparents quarreling about the fact that there is too much salt in the lamb stew."

Elizabeth shot a glare at Daveth and couldn't help but roll her eyes. It's true her and Alistair had had their… disagreements, but not to a point to compare them to an old married couple. The simple thought made her sick to her stomach.

The two young people re-entered the forest in a hurry. Elizabeth didn't want to leave Alistair and Jory alone for too long, and they needed to get their assignments done as soon as possible.  
They passed the place where the party had been divided, but no one was to be found.

"That's odd" Daveth remarked, "Alistair said they would wait for us here, I wonder-"

But he did not have time to finish his sentence, for an arrow came flying at tremendous speed and missed his head by a single inch. Elizabeth drew her two swords and scanned the surroundings. With horror, she realized that a group of darkspawn had attacked their two companions further away up the small hills, and had outnumbered them. Alistair and Jory were fighting bravely, but if someone didn't help them soon, they would quickly be overwhelmed by the foul creatures.

The two companions hurried into battle. Fear was rushing through their veins, freezing their blood down to the core of their bodies. The darkspawn were terrifying creatures, their black and rough skin was somber, and their blood injected eyes brought terror upon whomever lay eyes on them.

Elizabeth launched herself at the archer who has almost taken Daveth's life. The creature quickly took out a dagger and stopped her blow with strength she had not expected. It stared right into her eyes with cruelty and as it prepared to swing its dagger back at her, she drove her sword at incredible speed right through the grinning creature. Blood shot out of the dying body and splattered all over her. Elizabeth's heart was pounding : guilt had taken over alongside with fear, and adrenaline pumped in her veins.

The remaining darkspawn had been defeated. She closed her eyes and sighted in relief. As she turned around to see if everyone was alright, she saw Alistair kneeling down, one hand on the ground, breathless. An arrow had managed its way through his armor to his chest, and it was bringing him, from the look on his face, a lot of pain.

"Alistair!"

Elizabeth rushed to his side and kneeled down in front of him. In the back of her head she was slowly praying the Maker that the arrow had not touched his heart, for a fair amount of blood was coming out of his wound. She grabbed a bandage out of her bag and started to apply pressure.

"I'm alright… It's fine Elizabeth, you can take that worrisome look off your face."

"Daveth, Jory, secure the area, I'm going to have to-"

"What, take me back to camp?" Alistair cut in with a grin on his face

Elizabeth glared at him.

"Off with the armor, I brought supplies from camp just in case."

Alistair tried to argue, saying he would be okay and that the wound could wait. But Elizabeth would not hear it and she started to tend to him as Daveth and Jory were patrolling the nearby area to make sure no threat was coming their way. The wound wasn't deep, and the arrow had not touched anything vital. Alistair groaned in pain and kept moving around.

"Will you stop wiggling? And stop making that noise, you sound like my mabari."

"If you hadn't left the forest, none of this would have happened" Alistair groaned impatiently.

Elizabeth snapped right back.

"And if you had come along, no darkspawn would have ambushed you."

Alistair remained silent. Elizabeth had finished patching him up and started to put a bandage around his chest.

"You're the most stubborn and bossy woman I have ever met", he finally said.

Elizabeth looked up at him, her green eyes lightly sparkling. "Only with people who tend to have a habit of being wrong."

"For what it's worth…", she added, "I'm sorry for what happened. I probably should have listened to you. Even if you were wrong and I was right."

"That's probably the worse apology I've ever heard", Alistair nagged, laughing as he raised a playful eyebrow. Elizabeth glanced at him with a smile.

"We shouldn't linger. Let's get these treaties before another group of darkspawn comes and eats us", Elizabeth suddenly said.

She pulled away. The sparkle in her eyes disappeared, and her usual frown came back to her face.

"Yeah, let's go."


	4. Lost and Found

_**A/N** : Chapter 5 was actually written before this one. But Morrigan needed a proper introduction. Last "light" chapter before the real stuff begins! Enjoy, and don't forget to review! ^^_

_Thank you Tigress for putting up with that one! _

_Bioware's sandbox._

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**Lost and Found**

« Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've seen this tree before… " Daveth mused, "See ? Here's the darkspawn I slayed, laying right next to it ! ». He poked the corpse with the tip of one of his daggers. "Sweet dreams…"

The four wardens had been inside the Korcari wilds for hours now. The sun was still up in the sky and even if her companions were taking their turning in circles pretty well, Elizabeth's patience was wearing thin.

Alistair took out the map from his armor and looked at it with great disbelief.

"Er… Alright, it's official. We're lost." He finally said after studying the chart for a minute.

"Glorious. Shall we just sit here and wait for darkspawn to eat us up?" Ser Jory replied, fear and irritation in his voice.

Elizabeth had run up at the top of a small hill to get a better look at where they were positioned. They had encountered many darkspawn, and there would probably be more showing up, soon. Her and her companion's armor were coated in dark blood, and even her silky hair was starting to form crimson knots.

At Alistair's words, the young woman let out a sigh.

"Alistair, bring me the map." She snapped, raising her open hand towards the warden.

On her order, the templar jogged up the hill. Elizabeth took the map and raised it to her eyes, placing it against a tree.

"We arrived in the forest from here, then went straight South for a couple of miles. We're deep in the forests right now, and the treaties are suppose to be West, right around here" her fingers danced on map as she talked. "Well, only one thing left to do."

She drew her dagger, gripping it with both hand and raised it above her head as she turned to Alistair.

"Woah, El… Elizabeth, Wh…What are y…" the confused warden babbled, putting a hand on the grip of his own sword.

With a concentrating frown, the young girl violently lodged her blade into the ground vertically. Daveth and Ser Jory had joined them, curious about what was happening.

"A gnomon." Ser Jory remarked.

Alistair looked dumbfounded.

"Bless you?"

"A gnomon" repeated Elizabeth, rubbing the back of her hand against her forehead. "It uses the shadows made by the sun to know where in the day it is, and in which direction we should be heading. It's quite simple, actually."

"So a weapon can also be an astronomy tool? Convenient!" Alistair replied.

"You can use any long item, really."

She kneeled down and studied her dagger for a little while, looking up at the sun and the map at the same time. After a few passing minutes, the female warden finally stood.

"This way."

She unsheathed her dagger out of the earth and walked off with haste. The three men followed close behind and were looking at each other, raising eyebrows. Noticing their inquiring looks, Elizabeth smiled to herself.

"I read a lot." Was all she offered in explanation.

* * *

Alistair watched Elizabeth grab a leaf from a nearby tree to clean her bloody blade. The last of the darkspawn that had attacked them in front of the ruins they had been seeking all day lay headless on the ground, its head at the female warden's feet.

The templar was amazed, and at the same time utterly scared at the way his fellow companion fought. She was skilled, and very talented, but there was such rage in the way she swung her sword, and such resentment, that it made the warden question his companion's sanity.

_Specially covered in blood like that_

Their venture across the forest had lasted for a while and the light was starting to turn orange, announcing the sun's retreat. Alistair decided it was best to get moving, and fast. The forest wasn't safe during the day, but it was worse at night.

The four companions walked through the ruins and arrived in front of a broken chest.

"This is supposed to be holding the Warden's cache" said Alistair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But it's empty" replied Daveth.

"A fine remark" hissed Elizabeth under her breath.

Suddenly, a mystical and musical voice emerged behind the four companions.

"Well, well, what have we here…"

The wardens turned immediately on their heels, to see a cat-like figure slowly moving towards them. The woman wore nothing but a robe made of feathers and few pieces of cloth put abruptly together, barely covering her generous chest. She held at her back a long wooden stick, which confirmed she was a user of magic. Her shimmering golden eyes pierced through the four people in front of her, dark hair falling in her eyes.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder… A scavenger, poking amidst the corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, coming to these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

_Her__ wilds?_ Elizabeth thought, raising her chin a bit higher and looking at the newcomer straight in the eye.

"What say you, mm? Scavenger? Or intruder?", the witch fiercely asked, crossing her arms over her bosoms.

Elizabeth stepped forward, a hand on the small knife she wore at her belt.

"I'm sorry…", she said with a scuff, "…But who in the Maker's name are _you_?"

Alistair budged.

"Er… Elizabeth? I'd be easy on the…"

But the templar did not have time to speak his thought for his female companion raised her hand and silenced him with her simple gesture. Which left him with an open mouth, and a tad annoyed.

"You are the intruder here", the mage accused, ignoring Alistair, "I believe the question is rightfully mine…" As the dark woman walked through the ruins and climbed up a small mound to tower the four warriors, she continued :

"I have watched your progress for some time : 'Where do they go?' I wondered, 'Why are they here?'. And now, you disturb ashes none have touched for so long… Why is that?"

"Don't answer her" automatically warned Alistair.

"She's a witch of the wild she is, she'll turn us into toads!" cried Daveth.

The woman before them seemed amused, yet irritated at such words.

"Witch of the wilds? Such idle fancies those legends… Have you no minds of your own? You there", She pointed at Elizabeth, "Women do not frighten like little boys : tell me your name and I shall tell you mine"

Elizabeth was already fed up with the creature in front of her. In normal times, she would have been patient, and would have listened to that newcomer. But she was exhausted, and sore.

"Alright lady. As far as I'm concerned, accusing people like that is just plain rude. But you obviously are not a person of manners. You sure have some nerve, walking in half naked and condemning four armed men covered in darkspawn blood…"

"Have you NOT seen her stick? She's a user of magic!" Daveth quickly cut in a whisper.

"And I, a user of swords", the young woman replied.

Alistair had heard enough. He put one hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and forced her to turn around to face him. He took a step closer to her and locked his eyes into hers, heatedly.

"Listen Elizabeth. I don't trust her either but let's be civil here, she seems to know something. I know it's been a long day, by Andraste, it's been a long _week_ for you..."

The female warden brutally freed herself from Alistair's grasp.

"No, I'm not sure you do know"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, taking in Alistair's words. He was right, of course he was right. She raised her eyes at the witch before them.

"I'm Elizabeth."

The two women glared at each other as a moment of silence passed.

"And you may call me Morrigan."


	5. Joining

_**A/N** : Ah, the Joining. Too good of an opportunity to write something dark and sinister. This is where I think the real story begins._

_Thank you Tigress for the loving support _

_And thank you Bioware, for being such an inspiration._

_And thank YOU, for reading and reviewing :)_

* * *

"_Join us brothers and sisters.__  
__Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant.__  
__Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.__  
__And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.__  
__And that one day we shall join you. »_

* * *

Nothing could be seen.  
The shadows of Elizabeth's heart had taken over her entire world.  
There was no hope.

No life.

Only silence, and darkness.

There was nothing, for simply nothing lived.  
Her screams remained unheard, for no sound came out of her mouth.  
Her tears remained ignored, for nobody was there to acknowledge them.

She was alone, trapped in her own abyss.

Elizabeth looked at her hands but did not recognize them. They seemed detached from her body.  
These did not belong to her.

She raised one of them to touch her face.  
Nothing. She had become utterly numb.

And yet.

Where her heart once stood, formed a vast gashing hole. The hurt emanating from it spread through her whole body, and flowed out into the darkness surrounding her.

Was she bleeding?

Nothing could be seen.  
Nothing could be heard.

The only thing she was allowed to feel in this place was fear.

But where was she?

All that terror, all that distress she felt seemed to rush through her veins like a burning fire.

Life. Life was slowly dripping out of her.

And then it started.

The ache, the suffering. The screams of pleading and death.

Where were they coming from?

She tried to call for help but her voice remained vanquished. She was abandoned, helpless, and she couldn't save the people that were dying around her.  
Nor could she save herself.

A glimpse of what had seemed to be a glowing white light had appeared for a few seconds, but it had vanished as fast as it had come.

She felt ashamed, and inferior.

Why couldn't she reach the light?  
Why wouldn't it let her?

Amidst the cries, echoing voices rang in her ears. They were familiar, and reminded her of far away memories of her past life. She tried to call at them, but in vain.

Elizabeth fell over on her knees. The pain was unbearable.  
She wanted it to stop. She was begging it to stop.  
But nothing could be done.  
She was alone, forsaken, imprisoned in her own mind.

The pain had reached to her head, as if invisible hands had wrapped around her brain, and were trying to clutch out the very essence out of her

Why resist? Fighting seemed so unnecessary.

She knew this wasn't her time.  
And yet. She was slowly disappearing.

"Elizabeth."

The echoing voices reverberated around her. She opened her eyes and saw the white light.

"Stay strong, Elizabeth…"

Confusion clouded the young girl's mind. But these caring words seemed to have effect on her.

"You are a Cousland, Pup, get up and stand tall."

And then Elizabeth suddenly remembered. She remembered who she was. She remembered her family's tragic fate, and her oath to the Wardens. She remembered the voices and the names, the sunshine on her skin and Duncan's soothing words. She remembered Alistair's playful smile. She remembered the death of Daveth and Jory.

The shadows broke around her and the light that had seemed so far away engulfed her.

Her senses came back to her, and the pain started to fade away slowly, but surely.

A sudden gush of wind crashed against her back as a skyline drew above her head. It was of a sinister green, shrouded in black clouds and sliced by lightning. She was standing on a stone bridge, rain pouring down on her.

Something was standing behind her, something that held both the dark and evil presence of a divinity. Fear had once again frozen her limbs. She didn't know if she was suppose to turn around to face whatever was behind her, or to run towards the glowing light before her.

Its scream iced her blood. But she had not forgotten what the voices had said to her.

And as the wind blew stronger, her long hair soaring around her, she turned around to face what she would have never expected.

An enormous dragon, the color of blood with wicked black eyes, looked down on her and shot a murderous glare straight through her soul.

And then it went all black.

* * *

The two wardens had been waiting for a while now. Elizabeth had fallen on the ground screaming in pain the moment she had brought the chalice to her mouth, and had been unconscious ever since. Her heart was still beating, the senior warden had checked, and as pale as she looked, or as cold as she felt, she lay on the soil trembling with fever, but alive.

Duncan had his hands behind his back and was facing the distance, deep into his thoughts. As for Alistair, he was standing next to Elizabeth, wearing an anxious frown on his face. He wouldn't dare take his eyes off the young girl cringing on the hard, stony ground.

"This is unusually long.", he finally said, looking up at Duncan.

Duncan turned around and walked up next to Alistair, sadly gazing at the young templar.

"She is fighting, Alistair. But I'm afraid our young friend is using all her life force in order to win this battle of hers"

"It's so strange", Alistair shook his head in disbelief, "And kind of frightening actually, seeing this from the outside. She must be having terrible dreams, hear how she moans in pain!"

"So were you, Alistair."

The young warden's mind drifted back to his own joining. He had been so terrified that night, facing the death of a young recruit. The present joining had been the same, but bloodier. The corpses of Daveth and Sir Jory had been carried out by soldiers, and yet, blood remained splattered on the ground around them, and on Duncan's armor.

Alistair gazed back to the woman on the ground. She was laying on her back, her dark hair spread around her. When Elizabeth had seen Daveth fall motionless to the ground and witnessed Jory's execution, genuine terror had invaded her eyes. And when Duncan had brought to her the silver chalice filled with blood, she had not said a word, or looked at anyone. Maybe she felt like she shouldn't show any emotions, but the look in her eyes had betrayed her.

The single tear that had fallen down her cheek had also said it all.

Duncan continued to look at Alistair with wondering eyes. He knew the young warden was a very compassionate man, caring, and maybe too idealistic. Seeing him at the young girl's side brought to him warmth, and at the same time, worry. He could read into Alistair like an open book, and the emotions emanating from him troubled him.

"Alistair, you should be mindful of your em-"

But Duncan didn't have time to finish his sentence. Elizabeth opened her eyes in such haste, gasping for air that it almost startled him. Duncan sighed in relief. Out of the three recruits, never had he doubted of the ability of the young Cousland to survive the joining. But things were never written in stone, and her long unconscious trance had made him uncertain.

Before them, the new warden raised from the paving stone floor with a hand on her forehead, her eyes barely opened. Her porcelain skin had turned completely white, and her cheeks were damp from the tears she had cried while in dreams. She looked confused, exhausted, and lost.

"It is finished. Welcome." Duncan solemnly said.

Elizabeth raised her eyes to the two men standing. She closed her eyes from the pain throbbing in her head.

"Two more deaths. In my joining, only one of us died…", Alistair somberly declared, "But it was… Horrible. I'm glad you…" Alistair paused for a second "I'm glad at least one of you made it through."

Elizabeth tried to stand, but could barely stay on her feet. If Alistair had not caught her by the arm, she probably would have stumbled over back on the ground.

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked

Elizabeth glanced up to the senior warden. Her head was slightly spinning.

"My head is throbbing, I… I didn't think it would be… That pain… It was excruciating! I wasn't prepared… Ah…My head…" Her words barely made sense. But she suddenly raised her head and stared right at Duncan, exclaiming with utter indignation "You killed Ser Jory!"

The senior warden stayed calm at the accusation as Alistair forced himself not to smile. That finger pointing had almost sounded childish.

Duncan explained that that is what it took to become a Grey Warden. He also talked about her nightmares, and put in plain words that such dreaming would take place in the months to come, as would sensing the darkspawn.

"More nightmares? Perfect." growled Elizabeth. She was still weak on her feet, and took a few steps towards the stone barrier to rest upon.

"Take your time. When you're ready, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king". As Duncan said these final words, he bowed his head to the new female warden and walked away.

Elizabeth turned around and let herself slide against the stone wall to the ground. She let out a sigh and put her head back into her hands.

"Are you alright?" Alistair asked, kneeling down.

"I'm fine, I'm just exhausted…"

Alistair heard a distant growl coming suspiciously from his fellow warden's stomach.

"And STARVING!" She exclaimed with amusement, raising her emerald eyes to Alistair.

He immediately grinned at the woman before him. Dark circles had appeared under her tired eyes, which was even more reinforced on her right one because of the healing cut she held.

"Yesssss, well, that's not going to get any better. Worse actually."

"Nightmares, eating like a pig, and darkspawn." She listed on her fingers, "Being a Grey Warden is just like living the dream, isn't it…".

Alistair would have laughed, but the female warden before him had said it with such sadness that it had made him almost uncomfortable. Elizabeth looked down at the floor, putting back her usual guard up and avoiding eye contact.

"Before I forget, there is one last part to your joining." He raised a small crimson jewelry. "We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us… Of those who didn't make it this far", the templar finished, stretching his hand out with the small pendant between his fingers.

Elizabeth looked down at the small shining necklace and gently took it from Alistair's hand. She raised it to her eyes and looked at it for a few seconds.

"Did you have nightmares? I had terrible dreams after my joining…"

The young warden detached her stare from the pendant and shut her eyes, almost too forcefully. She had indeed dreamed vivid nightmares. She even had heard her father's voice, amidst it all. Elizabeth stood, the pendant still in one hand.

"Enough."

She threw a glance at the distant forest, and turned around, her back to the templar.

"Elizabeth, are you sure you're alright? Shouldn't you rest a bit? Maybe eat a little?"

"I should go. I… Thank you, Alistair."

He watched Elizabeth almost running away from him. She walked away from the young warden as fast as her painful body let her. Duncan and the King were waiting for her, no time for reminiscing. She couldn't make them wait, and she wouldn't.


	6. Too little, Too late

_**A/N** : I never thought my battle of Ostagar chapter would end up that way. One thing that is beautiful when you write a story is how in spite of it all, the story unfolds by itself. Reviews are always welcomed!_

_Special thanks to That Crazy Hole Girl for her review._  
_Eternal thanks to Tigress for correction and support (you rock!)_

_Bioware owns everything. _

* * *

**Too little, too late**

The sun had been gone for long now, leaving its place to the shadowy night that surrounded the fortress of Ostagar. The king's army had been fighting for what seemed hours on end, and yet, the number of darkspawn before them did not seem to diminish. Amongst the struggling soldiers fought the Grey Wardens, and together they battled as one entity against the evil coming from the darkness around them. Lightning sliced the black sky, illuminating the battlefield as the cold pouring rain dashed on the armies like an avalanche.

Duncan fought alongside of King Cailan, slashing through the tainted creatures invading the fortress. The senior Warden wasn't at ease like he would normally be in battles, for he had sent the two youngest wardens of the order to the tower of Ishal to light a beacon as a signal for Teyrn Loghain's men to ambush the darkspawn hordes. But the tower remained unlit and they were taking a long time. Perhaps too long.

Something was going horribly wrong.

.

.

.

.

Elizabeth dug her sword out of the enormous beast she had just slayed. The ogre had been feasting on human flesh when they had encountered it and would have probably done the same with them had they not killed it. The female warden was covered in blood, for she had made her way through the darkspawn of the tower with fearless slaughtering. Her ruthlessness had even scared Alistair a little.

_Not that darkspawn deserve any mercy…_

They approached what seemed to be a long vent, and the templar gestured to the mage that had fought alongside of the wardens to join them.

"Think you can light that up for us?" Alistair asked as the man approached.

And as the mage casted his spell, the tower lit up with a bright and tall blaze, the flames swirling on top of the ancient citadel.

But before they could take a moment of relief, a pack of darkspawn overwhelmed the top floor. The tainted monsters launched at them before the wardens could even turn around. But Alistair was quick, and drew his sword out, sweeping the nearest creature.

_How could we have not sensed them?_

The templar watched in horror as Elizabeth collapsed under a shower of arrows.

_No, no, this is not ending like this._

And before he could resist any more, the warden fell to the floor, a dagger stabbed in his back. Darkness was engulfing him, as he felt blood pouring out of his wound. Everything became unclear, his cheek against the icy ground. And cold indeed he suddenly felt, rapid chills running down his body.

"Perhaps this is how I'll go", he thought, closing his eyes and letting the numbness take over his pain.

The warden was not afraid. He had done what he had been assigned to do : light the beacon. And yet, his heart pounded in his chest, as if fighting to keep him alive.

"I am so sorry" he managed to whisper, before falling unconscious.

.

.

.

.

Duncan watched the tower light up with relief : Loghain's men would arrive at last. He fought against the coming wave of darkspawn, but soon enough, he realized there were too many. The creatures had overpowered most of the King's army, few of them still standing on their feet. Swords clanged against each other, screams of rage and pain rang through the fortress. As the senior warden violently ran his blade through a darkspawn, he saw King Cailan run pass him to engage a tall Hurlock. Both men fought skillfully, but they soon started to become overwhelmed by the incoming enemy.

_Where are Loghain's men?_

And then he felt it. Whispers, ringing from his head to his gut. Before realizing what was approaching, the warden saw his King being lifted up from the ground by an enormous ogre. It towered over the fighting soldiers and darkspawn, emanating of tainted evil. It held the King with a tight grip, and before Duncan could do anything else, the monster snapped the King's neck, crushing him with its fist, and throwing him off ferociously to the ground.

Duncan lay helpless on the ground. The battle had been lasting for hours, and his body ached all over. Before him lay Cailan's body, drenched in blood. He could see the King's still opened eyes, lifeless, yet filled with fear. Taking in the battlefield around him, Duncan's vision started to blur, as he saw the monsters he had been fighting for hours increase all around him. Reality hit him : the King's army was slained, and the second wave of soldiers were not coming.

In a last act of hope and vengeance, the senior warden stood up and rushed to the ogre that had murdered his King. With rage, he jumped on the beast and stabbed him again, and again.

_For the King._

The colossal creature gave a raw cry.

_For Ferelden._

The troll collapsed on the cold hard ground with a raw cry. Duncan's wounds were gushing blood, and the warden could barely stand on his feet. He fled to the body of the young King. Death was everywhere, and nothing could save them now, not anymore. In a state of confusion, he stood on his knees, and looked up at the blazing flame on top of the tower of Ishal.

_Alistair…_

As a horde of darkspawn charged him, and as he felt the cold metal of an axe go through his body he fell to the ground on his back, his vision blurring as he faintly looked up at the sky. Up in the heavens, fluttered a large bird. An eagle, perhaps?

And then he closed his eyes, and let go.


	7. Time has come today

_A great heads up to Tigress whose corrections on that chapter were extremely helpful. Merci mille fois! _

* * *

**Time has come today**

The tall reeds bent gently to the faint breeze of early morning. The sun had barely risen, but its rays bathed the Korkari wilds with a bright orange light, making the small lake shimmer. Alistair stood before it, breathing slowly and taking in what the old witch who lived in the forest and who had also saved him, had said. After he discovered the truth, he had left the hut in a rush to take a walk. He now stood not far from the small house, but away from the witch, and most of all, away from that Morrigan whose eyes betrayed her judgment upon him. The old witch had taken care of his wounds over night, and he had healed fairly quickly.

A sudden prickle of pain hit his heart, as the thought of his still unawakened fellow warden ran through his mind. Elizabeth had fallen under the arrows the tainted archers had shot at her. She still had not woken up. She probably never would.

The truth had broken him. Everyone. Everyone was dead. The king, the grey wardens. Even Duncan, he who had seemed so untouchable; even Duncan was gone.

And for the first time in months, he felt one more time the cold stab of loneliness. The feeling that had accompanied him for so long while he still lived at the chantry. And because he couldn't bare the idea of the solitude that had overcame him, he let himself fall to the ground and brought his two hands to his face. His cheeks were damp with tears.

The warden lay there for a while, his back on the humid grass, as if in a daze. Minutes, perhaps hours, past. He had lost track of time, lost track of everything, and stared at the blue sky, desperate.

His sad reverie was soon interrupted by a wet nose and slobbering tongue on his face. Cerberus, Elizabeth's mabari had found him through the forest. His eyes were bright, and they seemed almost content.

"Hey you", whispered Alistair, strongly clenching his eyes to avoid the tears threatening to reemerge. Seeing the hound brought back to his mind images of Elizabeth falling to the floor, lifeless.

The mabari barked loudly, and the young warden raised himself up, one elbow to the earth. He placed his other hand to Cerberus' head, gently. Alistair stared at the smart eyes of the animal sitting in front of him : it tilted its head, bewildered by the man's painful gaze.

"Looks like it's going to be just you and me…"

The mabari shook its head, answering with a plaintive whine. They stayed like that for a moment, when suddenly Cerberus stood on its four legs and gently grabbed Alistair's arms in its jaw, pulling on it. The templar understood it was the hound's way to tell him to stand up, and so he did. As the warden got up, he watched Cerberus abruptly turn around in the direction of the hut across the lake. It turned towards him and howled an excited bark, running towards the house in a hurry. Bemused, Alistair walked to the small shelter, where smoke was coming out of the chimney. And as he walked, he realized that in the distance stood Elizabeth, her mabari jumping around her in joy. His heart started pounding as his walking pace increased. Could the Maker have answered his prayers?

As he finally made it to the dwelling, Elizabeth was talking to the old witch, her back facing him.

"You… You're alive!" he managed to utter, emotion enfolding his voice.

The young woman turned around, her gaze lifting from the ground to meet his eyes. The young templar clenched his two fists, pushing away his urge to cry, to embrace her, to scream. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I thought you were dead for sure."

Elizabeth studied him for a moment, her eyes sadder than ever. The scar on her face had reopened during the battle, and Alistair wondered if it would ever heal.

"Alistair."

The quiver in her voice was light, but distinctive. She dropped her eyes to the ground. She seemed to want to say something, but no sound came out of her lips. Alistair felt her hurt throbbing on her face. It seemed her confusion matched his.

"Duncan's dead. The Grey Wardens. Even the King. They're all dead." He finally said, confused. "This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not speak of me as if I'm not present, boy." The old witch instantly said.

And as she, Flemeth, told the two wardens about herself, she engaged them in their duty, guiding them towards the treaties they had found just one day ago. They were the last two grey wardens of Ferelden, and the Blight was to be their only concern now, and their only battle. They were to gather an army : dwarves, mages, elves, and whoever willing to fight. Loghain's treason had to be taken care of, but for now, their duty as wardens lay ahead of them. And so, amidst their uncertainty and pain, she gave them hope, hope to take a stand, and perhaps, to end this upcoming Blight. They were ready to leave.

"Now before you go, there is one thing I can offer you." Flemeth said, as her daughter approached, clueless.

* * *

The two wardens, Morrigan, and Cerberus walked through the forest in silence. After Flemeth had ordered her daughter to accompany the wardens on their essential task, they had taken off as fast as possible, hoping to make it to the nearest village, Lothering, by the end of the day where they would set camp and accost the parish the next morning.

The dark-haired witch was fuming, and walked forth with brutal velocity. Her speed was almost hard to follow, especially for Elizabeth who was still in a bit of pain because of her wounds. She and Alistair walked gradually, the young templar deep in his thoughts.

The young woman glanced at him with inquiry. She had barely said a word to him every since their departure, and she felt almost obliged to give few consoling words. She had found the man exasperating from the start, but after what had happened to him, to the both of them, she was concerned about him; perhaps she even felt closer to him now.

"Alistair?"

"Yes, what do you need?", he replied, absent-mindedly.

"I thought… Well, I thought you'd want to talk about Duncan."

Her words pierced Alistair's heart. Hearing the senior warden's name was painful enough, but talk about him? It was something he wasn't sure he was able to do. At least, not for now. He turned his head to Elizabeth, who was waiting for an answer.

"You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

The female warden raised a surprised eyebrow at him, which rapidly turned into a frown. It wasn't the reply she had been expected, he had almost sounded conceited to her. Because she had met him a few weeks ago, his loss wouldn't mean anything to her? She snapped right back at him.

"Actually, yes, I do _'have to do that'_. What do you take me for, a cold hearted shrew?", the glare she was giving to Alistair slowly turned into a sad one. Her voice softened a bit as she sighed, "Just because I didn't know him long that I don't morn for his loss. Sorry for thinking you might need to talk."

And on those words, she increased her tempo and walked past him. Elizabeth had managed to keep her emotions in check ever since she had left Highever, but Loghain's betrayal had touched her to the core. She felt lost, and hopeless. Perhaps the world around them deserved to be saved from the Blight, but Humans… Humans' hearts held something darker then the taint itself.

Alistair watched his companion rush ahead with confusion. Of course, she would also be affected but what had happened. What was he thinking?

"I… Should have handled it better" he shouted in her direction. He watched Elizabeth stop and turn around.

"Duncan warned me right from the beginning that this could happen", he continued, catching up with his fellow warden, "Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and… and everything. "

He paused on these words, the memory of his once father-figure stinging his brain.

"I'm sorry."

Both wardens had pronounced the apology at the same time. They both glanced at each other, with a mixture of sadness and relief. Alistair let out a little laugh, but it soon ended with the thought of Duncan rushing back to his mind. A moment past before he spoke up again.

"I'd… Like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

Elizabeth had been staring at her feet as he talked. The word 'family' had made her stomach clench.

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea..."

"He came from Highever, or so he said. Maybe I'll go up out there sometime, see about putting up something in his honor. I don't know."

Elizabeth continued to listen to her companion; he sure had needed to get the weight off his chest. Somehow, the young woman couldn't help but feel anger bubbling inside of her, almost resenting the young man next to her. She listened to his feelings, and at the same time wanted to hit him, to burst in tears, to scream at the world around her 'What about me?'. She had bottled up so much, and things were starting to burst out. So when Alistair asked her if she had ever lost anyone close to her, she tried her best to not explode.

"I've lost enough to know what you're going though."

And before Alistair could reply, she marched on to catch up with Morrigan, who she knew would gladly remain silent, and wouldn't want to talk about her feelings.


	8. Down in Anger

_**A/N** : This chapter made me go to hell and back. Major thanks to my amazing beta Tigress, who managed to make this chapter what it is. Seriously, without you, it would have continued being 2000 words of none sense!_

_This is Bioware's sandbox, I love playing in it though. _

* * *

**8********. Down in Anger**

Elizabeth was leaning on a low wall, her hands clenching the grey stone. It was a beautiful and sunny day and the cold fresh air had almost rejuvenated her spirits… Until they had encountered a bunch of bandits. Once again, the warden had shown no sign of mercy.

Alistair was asking about what they should do next, but the young girl stared in the distance deep in her thoughts, facing Lothering with her companions at her back.

"I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. These treaties, have you looked at them?" asked Alistair, directing his question to the tall warrior.

"Mmh. Dalish Elves, Dwarves, Mages. And?" she mumbled.

"Well. I still think that Arl Eamon is our best shot for help. We might even want to go to him first."

Elizabeth considered the templar's words for a moment, then raised her voice, dryly.

"Why are you leaving it up to me?"

"Well I don't know where she should go! I'll do whatever you decide!", replied Alistair, a touch of frustration in his voice.

"Now that is unsurprising!" sneered Morrigan.

Elizabeth turned around with hostility and took a close step towards her fellow Grey Warden.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you wanted me to _lead_?"

Alistair looked down at her in bewilderment. She was awfully close to him, maybe even too close. And for a brief second, he almost forgot about the anger he could hear in her voice and felt heat rise to his cheeks.

Not getting any response from the man in front of her, Elizabeth made of noise of exasperation and started poking his chest plate in disapproval.

"YOU are the senior warden between the two of us! YOU know about the order, the warden's ways and the treaties! YOU, are even OLDER than me!" She turned to the uninterested witch, "Morrigan, tell him he's the rightful leader."

The witch shook her head.

"Absolutely not. I will not follow this imbecile about, nor follow his orders. I cherish my own survival too much."

Alistair suddenly took a step back from Elizabeth.

"She's right! No leading. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die and the next thing you know I'm stranded somewhere without any pants."

Elizabeth stared blankly at the warden, feeling a sudden wave of resentment rise towards him. She raised her hands to the sky.

"YOU'RE A FOOL!" she screamed. And off she went, fuming.

Alistair stood on the stone stairs for a moment, perplexed and flabbergasted.

"What did I do?"

Morrigan scoffed at the templar, and walked off to catch up with Elizabeth, leaving the young man alone. He turned to Cerberus who had been chewing at some deathroot on the side of the road.

"You probably won't be able to explain to me what just happened, right?"

The hound barked happily. The warden turned his gaze to where his two companions were, and realized they had already entered the village without him.

_By Andraste, that woman is exceedingly short-tempered!_

"HEY! Wait up!"

* * *

Elizabeth sat on a wooden crate beside a small river. The sound of the water soothed her nerves, for it reminded her of the forest she used to go to with her horse. She took deep breaths. It was hard for her to remain sane with everything that was happening around her. She constantly felt the anger, bubbling inside, and the strong desire to take revenge on the man who had destroyed her life.

The female warden was cleaning her bloody blades with a piece of old linen. They had encountered Loghain's men at the Tavern, and after finishing them off, they had had to deal with some crazy chantry sister who had proclaimed it was the Maker's will that she should help them to end the Blight. The warden had politely dismissed her.

She and Morrigan were waiting on Alistair's return : Elizabeth had bid him to bring health poultices to an old lady who was taking care of wounded or sick refugees as a way to keep the poor boy away from her and to prevent her from strangling him.

The two women had been talking about Morrigan's upbringing in the Korkari wilds, and Elizabeth was surprised to find that conversation flowed, easily between the two of them.

"When Alistair comes back we shall head to the Chantry and see if we can get the key to that Qunari's cage from the revered mother" Elizabeth said "Hopefully no templar will get in our way".

Morrigan shrugged.

"Only once was I accused of being a witch of the wilds, and that by a chasind who happened to be travelling with a merchant caravan. He pointed and gasped, and began shouting in his strange language, and most assumed he was casting some curse upon me!"

"So what did you do?" asked Elizabeth, raising an eyebrow.

"I acted the terrified girl, and naturally, he was arrested", the young witch replied, matter of factly.

The female warden let a crystal laugh slip from her lips.

"Men are always willing to believe two things about a woman" Morrigan continued, "One, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive."

Elizabeth looked up in amazement at her female companion. The first time she had met the witch she had been infuriated by her arrogance, but for the past days she had learnt to appreciate her blunt honesty, and the truth of the words she had just pronounced made the warden like her even more. But before Morrigan could continue with her story, Alistair arrived with Cerberus, who was happily trotting next to him.

"What a day!" he exclaimed, "Killing bandits and all sorts of other wild animals, taking care of refugees, encountering Loghain's men and fanatical chantry sister" he listed, stretching his back.

The two women stared blankly at him, not saying anything.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something? Want me to stand over there while you finish tea time?" he said with a smile.

Elizabeth glanced at Morrigan who rolled her eyes at the warden. Suppressing a smile, she stood up and walked toward the chantry, gesturing her companions to follow her. The sooner they could get that key, the sooner they could leave the village and settle camp for the night. It had been a long day and the female warden was exhausted.

.

.

.

.

"No, I will not."

The revered mother's negative responses had been filling the room for the past 5 minutes. Elizabeth had tried to convince her in every way that she had thought of. She had even tried elaborate lies in order to persuade her. But, nothing seemed to influence the steel resolve of the woman before her.

The female warden didn't particularly feel compassion for the imprisoned man. After all, he had murdered a whole family, something all too familiar to her. But the wardens needed help, all the help they could get, and her personal transference to the event was not something she would let influence her decision making. It was also something Duncan had solemnly said to her, almost making her swear she would follow that path : "The Grey Wardens sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness...and prevailed". She still didn't fully understand the importance of these words, and truth was, she barely even cared.

As for now, she was trying to get that stupid key from the revered mother, who had made the small portion of patience she possessed vanish into thin air.

"Alright old lady", she finally said, putting one hand on her hip, "I'm tired of your foolish and irrational rubbish about the fact that the huge, murderous giant is very, very mean. You want to see mean? I'd be happy to oblige".

Elizabeth put one hand on the knife she wore at her belt, and glared at the dumbfounded woman she had just unsettled.

"So what's it going to be, mm?", the female warden added, raising one eyebrow.

"Now we threatened priests! How FUN!" Morrigan exclaimed with excitement.

"Woah, WOAH! Let's not get out of hand here!", cut in Alistair, a disapproving frown on his face.

"What is the meaning of this? You would threaten me with violence?" the revered mother whispered.

Elizabeth couldn't tell if she was highly offended or completely frightened.

"Actually, yeah, I wo..." started the young female, annoyed out of her mind. But before Elizabeth could go any further, Alistair grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her to stand down.

"Your reverence, please!" he pleaded, "we're on an important mission! Let us take the Qunari off your hands. I beg you!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Alistair's fear of repercussion. But the revered mother continued her plaintive banter until she finally gave up her key.

"I have more important matters to concern me, here, take the key to the creature's cage and begone! And do not return."

Alistair bowed his head to the priest in understanding and apology, and signaled to the two women that it was the time to take their leave. On the way out, one of the templars shot an aggressive glare at the female warden. Something that made Elizabeth twitch, for she stopped right in front of him and took a close step towards him.

"What are you looking at, you chantry-enslaved, virgin moron?"

_What is wrong with her today!_, thought Alistair.

And before she could do any more damage, he grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and dragged her out of the Chantry with force. As they exited the church, he almost threw her outside and started to scream.

"Are you completely OUT of your MIND?"

Elizabeth was rubbing her arm. Alistair had held it with a tight grip and even with her armor, he had hurt her quite a bit.

"Out of all people, I would have never expected YOU to behave in such a way. You're a lady! A Noble! Raised with a chantry and a revered mother!"

"You wanted me to lead? Then deal with it!", cut Elizabeth.

"But that's beside the point!", cried the warden, "Is that really how you want the name Cousland to be seen?"

The young girl's heart suddenly clenched at the warden's words. The truth of them had hurt her more than expected.

"You're a lunatic, you know that right?", he continued.

Elizabeth stared coldly at Alistair, a flash of pain going through her eyes.

"And you're an ass."

And as usual, Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked away from a very confused Alistair.

* * *

After releasing Sten from the cage, the party had decided to take leave of the village to settle camp before nightfall. But before they could engage the imperial highway where they had previously slain a few darkspawn, they ran across Leliana, the chantry-sister they had met at the Tavern. She had come back to them so they could reconsider their stance.

"Her plea seems whole hearted" attempted Alistair, "And even though she seems a little… strange, she does have skill. I vote to let her come along."

"Alistair, she's one archdemon short of a Blight" snapped Elizabeth, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes, but she seems more "Ooh, pretty colors!" than "Muahaha! I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill, kill!"

Elizabeth couldn't help but let a quiet laugh from her lips. The templar was lucky he could be charming at times, or she probably would have already "stab-kill-kill" him.

"Oh, fine" she said, shrugging, "But since you're so eager for her to tag along, you can go get her a set of armor at the idiot merchant in the village. Everyone else, follow me".

As the rest of the party headed off, Alistair and Leliana turned on their heels and started walking towards the village. But the second they had turned around, they both heard from a distance Elizabeth's voice screaming in their direction.

"And hurry up! It's your turn to cook dinner!"

Alistair groaned. A smile drew on Leliana's lips as she turned to the templar, her melodious voice ringing in the air.

"She is quite the feisty one, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have NO idea. I'm even surprised she let you come without throwing a tantrum, complete with screams and kicks, before storming away" the templar replied derisively, "But what do I know. She gets angry all the time…"

The red-headed woman remained silent at the warden's words and they hurried to the merchant to get a plain set of leather armor.

After they had paid, they walked quietly out of the village. The sun was setting and the villagers were hurrying to get their business done in order to get back to their homes. Alistair turned around to gaze one last time at the village they had helped. For a moment, he felt content to take in the surroundings, but quickly his thoughts dwelled back on the darkspawn that would most likely destroy the life out of the parish, soon enough.

"You know Alistair", Leliana suddenly said, "If your fellow warden expresses such rage all the time, it's probably for a good reason. There must be real feelings hidden behind such emotion."

The templar studied her words for a moment, stopping in front of the stoned stairs of the highway. How could he have been so stupid? His fellow warden probably wasn't having the time of her life. He suddenly felt like a self-centered fool.

"Are you coming?" asked Leliana, who had already started to march ahead of him.

He told her he'd catch up, and glanced one last time at sundown.

From the corner of his eye, he caught glimpse of a small bush a few feet away from him. It was rather beat down, but amongst the thorns, rested a beautiful and delicate, red rose in full bloom.


	9. These ties that bind

_**A/N **: My muse seemed to have left me for the past days. This is what I managed to write. Beware, nothing happens!_  
_I also want to thank the people who review and subscribe, it makes me happy to know that my work is appreciated, even by a few._

_Thank you Tigress, for beta-ing words, words, words._

_All belongs to Bioware _

* * *

**9. These ties that bind**

Elizabeth stared at the crackling camp fire at her feet. The shadows of night had taken over the land hours ago, and yet, her eyes remained open. It was a beautiful starry night, and while everybody else was taken by their dreams, she was held down by reality. Still dressed in her brown armor, her white sleeping linen tossed at the side of her tent, she sat, stern as steel. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her insomnia.

The warden held in her hands a blank piece of vellum she had previously found on the road, scattered on the corpse of an assaulted merchant. She had taken it without much thinking, but now that she was alone she let herself delve into the poignant memories the calfskin brought back.  
She remembered the parchments of the castle's library, and the long letters her father would write when he was away. She remembered poems, and notes she would leave in her brother's room when they were still kids. She remembered learning to write, the smell of old books in her father's study, his soothing hand on her agitated forehead, and her mother's comforting words.  
And as the young girl closed her eyes and sighed at the lingering recollections, she softly threw the vellum into the fire and watched it burn until it was solemnly nothing but a handful of ashes.

Letting go, Elizabeth laid back on the ground, her eyes set on the stars. She knew the constellations by heart, and recited them silently in her head. She had done so many times before, but always with her brother. Fergus, whom she had no idea if he was alive or dead. She closed her eyes at the thought, feeling tears well up. And because the hurt she felt inside was too much to bear, and her exhaustion had reached its peak, she left her eyes closed, painful thoughts dwelling on her lost sibling.

A shifting noise came from one of the tents behind Elizabeth. The young warden swiftly pulled herself up and looked over her shoulder, only to see Alistair stumble out of his tent with a yawn. She watched the templar kneel down in front of what seemed to be his pouch and take something out of it. As he turned around the tall man froze, realizing sad green eyes were staring at him. Taking a step towards the fire, he returned Elizabeth's gaze.

"Still up?"

The young girl turned around with a shrug to face the dancing flames. She did not want to be disturbed in her lonesome reminiscence. Perhaps if she remained cold and indifferent the warden behind her would return to his tent without another word. But to her great displeasure, she saw from the corner of her eye Alistair sit on a log across from her. She watched him take a bite from a piece of bread with cheese.

"Midnight munchies. It'll wake me up every night, every time!"

Elizabeth remained silent, a bit irritated at the warden next to her.

"So!", the templar continued, becoming aware of his disturbance, "Why are you awake anyways… Nightmares? It's funny the dreams you'll have when you sleep on the cold hard ground, isn't it?"

Alistair waited for an answer from Elizabeth but the female warden's lips remained sealed.

"Are _you_ having strange dreams?", he tried again.

Elizabeth shot an angry glare at Alistair and replied fiercely, "Yes. And they ALL involve strangling you."

"ALAS! SHE SPEAKS!", cried the blond warden, victoriously.

Impatiently, the young girl stood and started walking towards the dark woods. She wasn't in the mood for his jokes, especially if they involved mocking her.

"Hey, where are you going?", Alistair asked, his mouth full of food.

The young girl stopped in her tracks and glanced back.

"The night is still young. I'm going for a walk."

Alistair remembered Leliana's words from the eve. Maybe the young female warden needed company, maybe she needed to talk to someone for she probably had many questions.

"Can I join you?", risked the templar.

"No."

And she walked off before her companion could argue.

"Elizabeth!"

The young girl increased her walking pace, but her fellow warden rushed to her side and grabbed her arm, gently, turning her around to face him.

"Wait, I'm sorry!" He said, laughing. But when their eyes met, he realized hers were red, "I… I didn't mean to upset you. Please, let me keep you company?"

The question echoed in Elizabeth's head. It seemed the quiet moments of solitude she cherished so much were gone for now, but to her own surprise she bowed her head in agreement. They walked through the woods, dead twigs crackling under their boots, and after a while finally reached a small opened piece of land, treeless, filled with dark blue and purple wild flowers. A couple of feet away lay a gleaming lake and the two wardens decided to sit down before the moonlit water.

"So, have you decided where we are going first?", Alistair finally asked.

Elizabeth pulled out a map out of her armor, unfolded it, and studied the inked vellum for a moment.

"I'd like to go to the Circle of Magi first, see if these treaties we have are worth anything. The Brecilian forest is huge and it could take us weeks to come across the Dalish. As for Orzammar, well, I'm just not feeling all that rock climbing and freezing mountains. Yet."

Alistair nodded and the girl lifted her eyes from her map.

"And then we'll head to Redcliff, and we'll see where we take it from there. After all, you said this Arl Eamon raised you, right?"

A glimpse of malice ran through the templar's eyes.

"Oh, did I say that? I meant that dogs raised me. Giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them in fact!"

A shy smile twitched at the corner of Elizabeth's mouth.

"That would explain the smell.", she answered in a murmur.

"Well it wasn't until I was eight that I discovered you didn't have to lick yourself clean. Old habits die hard, you know."

The young girl sighed and let herself lie down on the damp grass.

"So does a horde of darkspawn, I'm told. But fine, you don't have to tell me about the arl."

Alistair looked down at the girl whose eyes were closed. She seemed tired, awfully tired.

"Let's see, how do I explain explain this", he finally said, "I'm a bastard! And before you make any smart comments, I mean the fatherless kind."

The young girl opened her eyes and raised herself up on one arm. His words had caught her attention.

Alistair explained to her the life he had lead as a child, the stable straw that served him as a bed, his loneliness at the monastery and his mother's lost amulet. And for the first time in months, Elizabeth listened, really listened, to what was being said to her. And for a while, she forgot for a moment of her own pain.

"So, do you know who your father is?" asked the young girl, curious.

"I was never told who my father was, he died even before my mother anyhow…", the warden finally replied after a moment of thoughtful silence, "It isn't important", he then added.

The two wardens lay back on the grass and remained silent for a while, their eyes on the diamond-filled sky.

"Look at all these stars!", the templar exclaimed in awe, "I could never memorize them all."

He pointed at a constellation in the dark sky.

"I know this one's Andraste, because it is shaped like a sword", he then added with an enthusiastic smile, "Everyone knows that one". Glancing back at Elizabeth, he continued "But I can never remember the names of the others. I wonder what that one is…"

He pointed to a series of glowing speckles, bordering part of the Andraste constellation. The young female warden looked up and studied the sky for a second, struck by the irony of Alistair's curiosity.

"That's…", Elizabeth let out a sad titter, "That's the dragon. The Archedemon."

Alistair groaned wordlessly.

"Great. Out of all the bright and shiny dots up there, I just had to ask about the one thing that would NOT lift our spirits up."

He turned to the young girl whose eyes were fixed on the ground.

"How do you know all this stuff?"

Elizabeth turned her head to meet Alistair's eyes.

"My…", but she silenced for a second, turning her attention back to the sky, "I read a lot."

"And so you keep saying", the templar replied with a smirk. He then stood up and stretched his back, before extending one hand to Elizabeth.

"Come on. We should get some sleep." He said in a soothing voice.

The young girl raised her eyes one last time to the constellation her companion had pointed at and with one last glance, she took Alistair's hand and helped herself up. Without another word, the two wardens walked silently back to camp.

* * *

Alistair's eyes opened abruptly. He had been woken up by a noise. What it was though, he was still unsure. The templar strained an ear, afraid that some darkspawn had discovered their camp site. But to his great surprise, all he heard was a small whimpering cry. He instantly recognized Elizabeth's voice, and came out of his tent only to see his female companion laying on the ground before the died out fire, crying in her sleep. The sun had already started to show itself.

_Nightmares_.

Approaching Elizabeth, he realized the warden was running a fever. Sweat was dripping down her face and her cheeks were flushed with heat. The templar quickly grabbed a wooden bowl and filled it up with clean water Leliana had sought out hours ago. Kneeling down next to the young girl, he dipped a piece of cloth in the water and patted the warden's feverish forehead for a while. He then stepped away and sat down close to the fire, putting on his armor. As he did so, he did not tear his eyes from the hallucinating girl.

As he watched her, the templar came to realize that his fellow warden, his "sister", his companion in arms, was in a state of emotional pain that even he would never understand.


	10. Astray dreams

**_A/N _: **_"Lost in dreams" is probably my favorite part of the whole game. I hope I have done justice to the "Broken Circle" quest!_

_Thanks again to Tigress, who helped this one be as perfect as it could be, you rule! *hug*  
Bioware's sandbox, I love playing in it! _

* * *

**10. Astray dreams**

«The tower is no longer in our control. Abominations and demons stalk the tower's halls. The Circle is lost. The tower has fallen."

The Knight-Commander's words echoed in the large entrance hall of the Mage's tower. The room was dark, illuminated by a few flickering candles. Fearful silence filled the area, interspersed by whimpers and cries of a wounded templar whose eyes were fixed on a threat that only he could see. The heavy carved doors that led to the rest of the Circle were watched over by armored guards, their long swords ready to strike down anything that would come their way. Their faces were covered by bucket-shaped helmets, but if you had been able to see the look in their eyes, you would have seen nothing but panic and cruelty. As for the other templars, they were locked inside the tower, fighting for their lives, or probably already dead on the cold stoned ground.

Elizabeth was baffled, and could barely think straight due to the pounding of her head. Things were not going as planned. The wardens needed help against the Blight, from whoever wanted to give it, and at whatever the cost. As for the demons that had managed to break free from the Fade, they needed to be dealt with, now. Knight-Commander Greagoir made the warden understand that if they helped annihilate the remaining of the Circle, the templars would join their cause.  
Things were hardly black and white, and yet, the brown haired girl shook hands with the commander in agreement. The Circle would burn to the ground, along with the abominations, and every remaining mage inside.

They marched through the carved entry, the closing slam of the heavy doors echoing through the empty and dark corridor they had just entered. The apprentices' quarters were deserted, lifeless. Corpses were scattered across the rooms, some on the floor, some curled up in their beds. How they had met their fate though, was almost impossible to tell.

The party ventured forth, trying to ignore the fear icing their blood.

As soon as they passed the second door, they discovered mages, young ones, and Wynne, the elder and wise mage Elizabeth had met at Ostagar. How the enchantress was still alive, the warden did not know.

"Wait, there are children here?"

Wynne explained the hatred of the templars, that there were mages that were still alive, only trapped and left for dead, at the mercy of the demons and evil spirits that now ruled the tower. She pleaded for their help to save the remaining of the Circle from the maleficarums.  
Elizabeth did not promise a thing, but she let the mage come with her for the barrier keeping them from entering the rest of the tower was strong, and she seemed to be mindful of the evil scampering inside these walls.

They marched on.

Memories the vast library brought back flooded Elizabeth's mind. She had spent countless rainy days locked among bookshelves, trying to learn the outside world through tomes and manuscripts. But the warden had now realized you could not learn everything from books.

Silence filled the first floor. Nothing could be heard beside their own heartbeats, and the fugitive whispers that ran through the hallways.

The party advanced with prudence, and attention.

The Abomination that abruptly appeared before them whispered incomprehensible murmurs that echoed through the hall, sending chills down the wardens' back. The horror was beyond their worst nightmare, and even the darkspawn Elizabeth had met had not scared her that way.  
She was frozen, unable to raise her weapon, her eyes fixed on the creature as it launched itself at her. Had she been alone, her end would have been immediate.

Alistair appeared out of nowhere in front of her, protecting her with a blast of his shield. Crying out her name, the warden fought the demon along with the others. Elizabeth backed out of the fight, terrorized, pressing her back against a wall.  
The demon melted through the floor in a second, and her companions turned to her, bewildered by her reaction. Elizabeth's breathing was fast, her eyes were alert and filled with fear. She watched Alistair put a hand against her burning forehead. She heard his voice, vaguely.

"She's sick. She's been sick for days."

Watching Wynne approach her, Elizabeth felt a wave of heat going through her body. Alistair's warm hands were wrapped around her, holding her up and still.  
The healing mage casted a spell, saying that it should cool down the fever at least for a while.

They marched on. Room after room, demon after demon.

Blood mage after Blood mage. They ran along the hallways and corridors of the tower. The party had managed to corner one.

"Change rarely comes peacefully. Andraste waged war on the Imperium, she didn't write them a strongly worded letter! She reshaped civilization, freed the slave, and gave us the Chantry. But people _died_ for it."

Her words troubled Elizabeth, for the truth they held shook her own beliefs.

"We thought… Someone has to take the first step, force a change, no matter the cost", continued the maleficar, lying on the ground.

Deep inside, the warden knew that if she had been a mage trapped in such a tower, she would have ended up taking the same path of the apprentice before her.  
And yet. Her sword ran through the maleficar and splattered the warden in blood. No one killed innocents and walked away from her. No one.

They marched on.

Room after room, demon after demon, they slew.

Elizabeth was frightened, but managed to turn her fear into rage, and ran her blade through everything that moved. But when they entered a room on the fourth floor of the tower, everything changed.

A demon offered blessed rest.  
To forget it all. The world could go on without her.

And as her companions tried to resist the urge to fall into slumber, the warden let herself slip into it.

Thus the lines of the walls around them twisted into a blur, appearances turned into reality, and past became present.

* * *

_The golden light illuminates the alley of tall stone pillars. It's peaceful here, Elizabeth knows there is no threat, no menace.  
__She is wearing a long velvet, bottle green dress. It brings out the color of her eyes. Her long brown hair gently falls down her back.  
__She feels serene and at ease, walking through the breathtaking fortress._

_ This is Weisshaupt, the home of the Grey Wardens, but also her home now.  
__Nothing can happen to her here.  
__No hurt, no betrayal, no battle._

_ She lets herself enjoy the heat of the sun on her skin, a genuine smile on her face. It's been a while since she's had one of those._

_Marching through the castle, she comes across an old friend of hers. The Senior Warden soothes her with words. His presence is appeasing.  
__He tells her everything is over : the slaughters, the archdemon, even the atrocity of the darkspawn._

_ She accepts it._

_ In the far distance, she recognizes her stallion. The brown horse seems happy to see her__; __he rests his head against her chest, closing his eyes in relief. She strokes the neck of the animal for a while. One hand on him, one hand on the small growing bump of her stomach. _

_ She can restart a family here._

_ He is warm, and comforting. She had missed him greatly.  
__Elizabeth had thought her friend was dead._

_ Dead?_

_ She catches a glimpse of the sky above her. It is of a greenish grey, covered in smog, filled with clouds.  
__But where is the sun coming from?_

_ The warden suddenly feels a cold gust of air brush pass her. It feels like ice on her bare skin.  
__And as the wind grows stronger, she walks through the castle walls. The warden suddenly wonders why she is alone here._

_ Where is Alistair?_

_ Running through the bright stone hallways, the warden cries out his name.  
__In vain._

_ She stops in front of an armor stands and recognizes her possessions. There is a long sword resting against the wall that catches her eye. Her family sword.  
__But Elizabeth had lost it at the battle of Ostagar._

_ The young girl turns around in horror, and sees Duncan and two other wardens marching towards her, weapons out. The wind is violent now, and the fortress is crumbling around them. Something is running down her leg. Blood._

_ She raises her blade in front of her, her two trembling hands tightly clenching the grip of her sword. _

_ It was all a lie. _

_ She runs, screaming in rage towards the three men and launches herself at the Senior Warden, her sword going through the illusions' body._

_ She was in the tower. She was fighting demons.  
__This is just another trap. How could the Blight be over?_

_ Nothing's over.  
__Nothing's ever over._

_._

_._

_._

_ Elizabeth runs through the Fade. There is carnage everywhere she goes. She is afraid, confused.  
__She meets a beaten and frightened man, Niall. He's been waiting in these ruins for what seems a lifetime. There are dead trees everywhere.  
__He explains to her she needs to free her companions, and defeat the protectors of the Sloth demon in order to get to him. He is the one imprisoning them._

_ The man won't come with her.  
__She has to do this alone, and it terrifies her to the core._

_ She encounters demons, their fire burns her down and yet, she fights.  
__A mouse tells her to kill the demoness ruler of the first island, and gives her his power._

_ She turns into a mouse, and runs, runs, without even feeling tired. Only afraid. She fights and kills. She encounters other spirits__that give her other powers._

_ Mouse, Burning Man, Spirit, Golem._

_ Elizabeth kills the protectors of Sloth, but is unable to find what she cares about the most._

_ She runs, falls, stands up and runs again._

_ Alas, she finds Sten. He is aware of the delusion. He doesn't wish to leave.  
__She makes him understand that this is just another cage._

_ Mouse, Burning Man, Spirit, Golem._

_ She runs through the maze, whispers in her head. Or are there really people whispering to her?  
__She feels lost. Or perhaps she is lost._

_ She frees Wynne, Leliana, Morrigan. Even her dog. She did not know dogs could dream.  
__Her companions vanish as soon as they appear. And Alistair is nowhere to be found._

_ Mouse, Burning Man, Spirit, Golem._

_ She runs, she runs, breathless, her heart clenched._

_ And then she finds him. He is happy, in harmony with himself and the family that surrounds him. Elizabeth realizes that deep inside they both wish for the same thing._

_ It breaks her heart to wake him up to the truth, to make him remember._

_ She launches herself to hold him, but as soon as her arms wrap around his chest she feels him dematerialize. She tries to hold on to him, she doesn't want to be alone again._

_ And yet._

_ Mouse, Burning Man, Spirit, Golem._

_ They are all together again now. They can fight.  
__And they win._

* * *

The companions opened their eyes, dazed, confused of what just happened. Elizabeth stood up, frowning with watery eyes. The dreams she and her companions had when caught in the Fade disturbed her, and raised many questions.

The warden knelt down to Niall's body and retrieved the Litany from the cold corpse. Closing her eyes, she murmured gentle words for the Maker to watch other him.

They marched on. Demons, Maleficars. And finally, they arrived at the top floor, where a tortured templar is imprisoned by a magic barrier.

He told them that every living thing inside the next room must be destroyed, that they've been ruined by blood magic, that mages must be obliterated.

The warden stared down at the man whose pain she can relate too. She will kill Uldred, demons, and whatever maleficar stands before her. But she will try to save people, if they can be saved.

"I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all."

And so they marched on, one last time, and entered the heart of hell.

* * *

Morning was breaking when they left the tall tower. When the party set foot on the ground, they all smiled at each other in relief. They had not only survived their ordeal in the tower, but also saved it. Despite Morrigan's complete disapproval in the beginning, they were all glad that their leader had decided to help the mages.

They set camp away from Lake Calenhad, and Elizabeth decided they would take a day and night off to rest. Thus, Everyone walked off to their various chores, to find water, wood, or start making breakfast.

Elizabeth watched Alistair struggle with the tarpaulin of his tent. Smiling, she walked up to him and grabbed the other end of the green cloth and helped him set it right.

"Thanks", the templar said in a low voice.

The blond warden collapsed on the ground in front of his tent with a sigh. Elizabeth looked at her companion with wonder. What she had seen in the Fade… Had it been real? She wanted to ask him, but decided against it. She simply sat down next to the warden, looking at their companions going about their business.

"I'm glad we walked out alive, today", she softly said, "And I'm glad you were there"

Elizabeth turned her head to Alistair, her emerald eyes kindly sparkling. She realized the warden's eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow. He had already fallen asleep, probably too exhausted to keep himself awake. The young girl grabbed a thick wool blanket they had gotten from the Circle, and covered her fellow companion.

Their journey had only just begun.


	11. An honest mistake

_**A/N : **A short bridging chapter. Zevran comes into the picture! Also, do not worry, Ali & El will both come clean very soon. Enjoy!_

_Thanks to amazing beta Tigress, who deals with not so interesting chapters like this one._  
_All belongs to Bioware. _

* * *

**11. An honest mistake**

The party had walked right into an ambush.

Elizabeth had felt like a complete fool, anger spreading through her body like fire when she had noticed her assassins' winning smirks. Even though their opponent's number exceeded theirs, they had given a superb fight.  
The female warden stared down at the blond killer lying unconscious on the ground. She had knocked him out with the pommel of her sword and was now looking down at his bloody temple in resentment.

"We should probably wake him up to ask questions." Alistair said, wiping his sword on the grass.

Elizabeth grabbed her leather gourd and dumped the water onto the comatose assassin, screaming "WAKE UP!". Alistair couldn't help but smile at his fellow warden's lack of tact.

The elf groaned. Opening his dazed eyes and shakily looking up at the woman before her, he babbled a couple of indistinctive words, but Elizabeth cut in and demanded he answer some questions.

"Ah! So I'm to be interrogated? Let me save you some time. My name is Zevran, "Zev" to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose to slay any remaining Grey Wardens, which I have failed at, sadly."

"Who hired you to kill us?", Elizabeth snapped.

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain I think his name was… Yes, that's it."

Alistair groaned. The two wardens glanced gloomily at each other and Elizabeth let out a sigh. The assassin went on explaining the contract between Loghain and the Crows.

"If I had failed, I would be dead, or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are concerned…"

"_If_ you had failed?", Elizabeth pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"What can I say! I'm an eternal optimist! Although the chances of succeeding at this point seem a bit slim, do they not?", Zevran replied with a grin. He then burst into a cheerful laughter.

Elizabeth's impatience kicked in. She grabbed the elf from the ground by the collar and pinned him against the nearest wagon, her knife against his throat.

"Now you listen to me closely, you wretched boar. You probably think you're so charming with your fancy accent and your little girl's braids, but I'm not in the mood for your pleasantries. So how about you start pleading for your life, and fast, before I run out of pity and slit your pretty little throat?"

Alistair and the other companions watched Elizabeth in a mix of amusement and horror. The look on the assassin's face after the warden's words was priceless, and yet, the young girl's violence and brutality always seemed incompatible with her innocent and almost childish face.

"Fiesty! I like it!"

Elizabeth pressed the knife harder against the elf's throat, and so he quickly engaged in a proposition. Since his life was forfeit, he could serve her instead.

"You must think I'm royally stupid", the warden spat out.

"I think you're royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous. Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess!"

Elizabeth took a step back and let go of the elf in disgust, pushing back the urge to punch the assassin back into unconsciousness. Alistair clenched his fists at Zevran's words and his stomach tightened, feeling a wave of distrust engage his body. As Elizabeth positioned herself next to him, he took a protective step in front of her.

"… Do whatever you wish. If you want to tag along, suit yourself", Elizabeth finally told Zevran, indifferently.

"What? You're taking the assassin with us now?", argued Alistair in disapproval, "Does that really seem like a good idea?"

Elizabeth looked up at her fellow warden, exhaustion on her face.

"I'm tired of bloodshed. If you want to kill him, you do it."

The templar let the issue go, and the assassin walked up towards the travelling group and bowed his head to their leader.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you until such a time 'till you release me from it. I am your man and without reservation. This, I swear."

Elizabeth stared blankly at the elf and growled.

"Oh, shut up"

* * *

They had finally arrived at Redcliff and before them lay the village, the morning sun bathing the small houses and high windmill. Elizabeth's eyes lingered on the view, admiring the small town and the glistening lake. The castle of Redcliff stood above everything, set on a small hill, proud and tall. It reminded her of her past home.  
Alistair had been fidgeting during the whole journey to the castle, glancing at her in hesitation and worry. Elizabeth had guessed he wanted to talk to her about something, but wouldn't say anything until he engaged her himself.  
Finally, right before entering the village, the templar spoke up.

« Look, can we talk for a moment ?"

Elizabeth glanced at her fellow Warden with inquiry. He had a stern look on his face, mixed with a bit of apprehension.

"Alistair, if this is about Zevran…"

"No, no!", hastily answered the templar, "I need to tell you something. I, uh… Should have probably told you earlier."

The two wardens moved aside from their travelling party.

"It's beautiful here, is it not?", she uttered with a smile, "What's on your mind?"

The young girl turned around and looked straight at him. For a moment he got lost in her huge green sparkling eyes. Alistair has started to be familiar with Elizabeth's bad temper. And what he was about to say would probably make her good mood disappear in a second.  
The templar clenched his jaw and looked down at his feet.

"I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?", the warden watched a dim frown appear on Elizabeth's face, "The reason he did was because, well, because my father was king Maric. Which made Cailan my half brother. I suppose."

A couple of seconds passed in silence.

"…WHAT?"

Her scream had echoed through the valley and had made their other companions turn around in their direction. Alistair raised his eyes to Elizabeth. Her two hands were clenched in tight fists, and the glare in her eyes would have scared the bravest knight away.

"I'm sorry! I know I should have told you, it was a mistake not too, it's just it didn't mean anything to me and…"

But before the Warden could finish his sentence or react, he found himself pinned against a high rock, Elizabeth's forearm against his chest. He heard Zevran in the distance make a comment about how she enjoyed head butting people and she seemed to decide to ignore it.

"Give me one good reason to not physically hurt you."

Her eyes were pained, and angry. She pressed her arm against Alistair, enabling him to move.

"Andraste's blood, Elizabeth! You're overreacting! I would have told you but it never really meant anything to me! I'd never talk about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me or coddled me…"

Elizabeth listened to the young man she had violently jammed against a pile of stones. She felt hurt, untrustworthy and almost a bit used. She did not know why she was reacting this way, but listening to Alistair's blather, she slowly let go of her grip on him and took a step back.

"I'm sorry.", attempted the templar once again.

The young girl stared gravely at him.

"Right", she finally whispered, turning her back to him to face the village she had been admiring just a minute ago. She wrapped her arms around herself.

Alistair took a shy step towards her. He wanted to tell her, he _needed_ to tell her why he didn't want her to know. But he knew the words would come out wrong. They always did when he was around her. And yet he tried. He tried to tell her his situation, that he feared the throne and was far from wanting to be considered like an heir. That he had always been considered a commoner, and that he also felt that way. That he was a Grey Warden, nothing else.

Elizabeth listened. But she had turned back to her usual self, putting back the barrier between them. Her previous sparkling green eyes had returned to their usual greyness, and sorrow.

"You're an idiot, you know that right?", the female warden finally said.

Alistair could see the hurt in her eyes, yet her words pierced his heart. He had sought compassion and understanding, but all she gave him was bitter resentment. The two wardens looked at each other in dismay, and then Elizabeth stepped aside from the man before her and walked away, without adding another word.


	12. Absolution

**A/N **: _And 3000 words later, here it is. This chapter was re-written at least twice, for I was never happy with it and I watched Elizabeth slowly take over the whole thing! But, I'm rather pleased with how it turned out. So lots of thanks to my beta Tig - You are a huge help 3_  
_I want to also thank you guys for the support, the reviews, and subscriptions, they make me a happy bunny!_

_Everything belongs to Bioware. _

* * *

**12. Absolution**

Fatigue dawned on the companions. All day, they had organized the defenses of the village. All night, they had fought against the wicked spirits.  
Elizabeth had dispatched her group in two : Wynne, Leliana and Sten stayed in the parish after daybreak to take care of any wounded villagers or soldiers, and to help with whatever else issues the village could have. As for herself and the rest of the group, they had engaged the fallen castle, using the secret passage Bann Teagan had showed them.

The villagers' words surfaced in the young warden's mind.

"_Something is rotten in the castle of Redcliff." _

"_The Maker will direct it."_

But had they known what evil lurked inside…

The young girl watched in horror as the child of the sick arl ordered and abused the people around him. His voice was distorted by some unknown fiend. His eyes held a cruelty that a youngster was not suppose to have. The violence of his words came from a heart that wasn't his. He was blackened, tainted, possessed. And the demon that ruled his soul toyed with him like a rag doll.

"Grey Warden… Please don't hurt my son! He's not responsible for what he does!"

Isolde's pleading words and cries were muffled by Teagan's joyful screams. The demon had turned him into a puppet. Elizabeth watched the horrifying scene that was taking place in front of her, unable to move, barely saying a word. She did not know what to think of this, but understood from the ongoing exchanges that Connor, the son of the arl, had made a deal with a demon in order to save his father. She also understood that if his mother had sent him to the Circle of Magi, the boy would have been under control. Or dead, due to the events that had taken place there.

She watched, in a daze, shocked that sheer wickedness could take over such innocence. What _was_ this world they all lived in?  
She watched in dismay as Connor ran away and left behind him haunted guards that assaulted them.  
She watched a bloody Teagan come back to his senses and a beseeching Isolde plead for her son.  
She watched, as Morrigan suggested another way to take care of the demon.  
She watched, submissively. Her, an 18 year old girl, strained by fate to once more make a decision she could not, nor did not want to make.

Three options lay before her. And yet. She only knew one way to destroy a demon.

Isolde's cries shattered her heart. Teagan's resolve hurt her soul. Alistair's arguments frustrated her.

"You can find more mages and lyrium at the Circle of Magi!"

Elizabeth glanced sadly at the templar behind her.

"There is no time, Alistair." She uttered.

"What do you mean 'there is no time'? The tower is a couple of day's travel away!"

"And another two days to come back. How long do you think Connor's demon will remain asleep before it strikes again?"

Alistair remained silent.

"No! You cannot! He's my SON!"

The two wardens looked at each other as Lady Isolde's crying and footsteps reverberated through the hall where they stood. Disagreeing had become part of their relationship, but today, weeks of resentment emerged between the two. The young girl pushed down the venom in her mouth. The templar forced himself to not snap at her.  
Teagan bid his leave to rush to Isolde's side and try to make her come to his senses.

"It's a child we're talking about here, Elizabeth" she heard her companion shout at her from behind.

She started walking through the hall, wishfully hoping her rapid steps would take her away from the situation.

"You're not going to kill Connor, are you? You can't! He… He's the arl's son!"

Entering a small study, she rested her two hands on a dark wooden desk. She heard Alistair's footsteps slow down and stop behind her.

"Damn it, Elizabeth will you talk to me?"

The young girl closed her eyes. She tried to remember the last time her heart had not felt like it was going to explode. She wanted to help the boy more than Alistair probably thought, but she had studied maps and the treaties before coming to Redcliff. Sparing even a few days, possibly in vain, seemed like one hell of a bet. A chance she was not ready to take.

"Haven't you had enough of all the death and misery out there? Must you add to it?", the templar somberly asked.

"Tell that to the families that Connor's mistake killed. Or maybe you would rather use blood magic? Either way, someone's going to die."

A heavy silence emerged between the two wardens. Elizabeth turned around and looked up at the man who seemed so far away from her, no matter how close. He sadly gazed back at the devastated girl before him. Seconds passed without a word said.

"The treaties, Alistair, they are our priority. I don't even know how long it's going to take us to find the Dalish, or how long we'll be stuck in Orzammar. You really think they'll automatically agree when we arrive branding our shiny old parchments?"

Her voice was solemn, she stood tall, her chin high. A true leader.

"And I suppose we will have to seek the Urn of Andraste's ashes, whatever legend it might be? For without arl Eamon, we will not be able to engage Loghain in a political way, am I right? How long do you think THAT will take? Do you truly believe the darkspawn will warmly wait for the Grey Wardens to be _ready_?"

Alistair remained silent, suddenly very aware of his fellow wardens' words.

"I never expected you to be so pragmatic", he finally said. The young girl frowned at his words.

"And you are too soft. I would have expected more of you as a Grey Warden, Alistair. You know where our duties lie", the young girl paused at her own words, "…Go see Wynne. Go to the Circle with her and bring Sten along. But if the demon comes back…"

Alistair sighed in relief.

"Thank you. I… Thank you Elizabeth."

His voice had trembled a bit. He smiled at her and turned around.  
The young girl watched him run out in a hurry and bowed her head to the floor, escaping the sight of her own reflection the tall mirror in the room gave off. Under her hand lay a long silver chain with a dented medallion.

* * *

Morrigan stood in a corner, her arms crossed and dark bangs hiding her eyes. Elizabeth walked up to the woman with whom she had, as strange as it seemed, a growing connection. The witch raised her malicious golden eyes to the warden, knowing exactly what the girl was going to say.

"He's not a child anymore, he's an abomination. You should not let appearances deceive you."

"I know", the warden's voice was grave and harsh. She raised determined eyes to meet Morrigan's, "I sent Alistair away."

The witch raised a surprised eyebrow at the warden, but quickly bowed her head in understanding. Elizabeth had felt guilty lying to Alistair. But when she had tried to explain to him what really mattered, he had not listened. Without another word, the two women drew their respective weapons.

Making their way through the candle lit corridor, Zevran walked out of the shadows with an inquiring look.

"Catch up with Alistair. Tell him there's no need to leave."

The assassin nodded and disappeared in the darkness of the hallway.

The two women walked in silence to the little boy's room. The demon seemed to have released its control, for the boy stood alone and trembling, a wooden toy horse in his hand. The sight made the warden's heart clench in pain. And yet. The corpse of a guard in the corner of the room reminded her what she was here for.

" Go away! She won't like you being here. She'll just try to hurt you!"

The tone of his voice was that of a juvenile child. The tainted demon was gone, for now. Elizabeth kneeled down before him and looked into his tired eyes. The black circles betrayed his forced sleeplessness. The warden saw in them nothing but fear and regret. A look she only knew too well.

"I'm afraid this has to end now, Connor."

The boy's eyes filled with tears and he took a step back from the woman.

"Is that why you're here?", his voice was low but surprisingly steady, "Are you going to kill me? She said you would. What's going to happen to me? Wh… When I'm dead?"

Elizabeth was bewildered by his question. She did not know how to answer. In a way, no one really could. She shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't know", her voice was shaky, "I suppose… You go on to a better a place. A peaceful one. I always imagined a shimmering meadow, where everyone you love is there with you."

"It sounds like a nice place...", Connor raised his scared eyes to meet Elizabeth's, "Is it going to hurt?"

The warden sadly smiled at the innocent child.

"It might. I'm… I'm so sorry Connor."

And that was all the young girl could take. On the edge of breaking down, she stood and signaled Morrigan to get ready. As she did, the lights in the room started to flicker, and the small boy started screaming, his voice distorted.

As the candles went out, the demon took over his body.

* * *

Elizabeth walked alone through the woodland near Lake Calenhad back to where her companions had settled camp. She had sent them away after today's events, hoping to obtain a moment of solitude. The silence of the night soothed the young girl's nerves. But. Shame ran through her body and burned her heart, deep inside. She could still hear Lady Isolde's cries, her pleading, her tear filled eyes.

"_DON'T KILL MY BABY!"_

The warden stood still and threw her head back, trying to prevent the tears to fall down her cheeks.

"_You're a woman. What if this was YOUR son? Tell me you wouldn't move MOUNTAINS to SAVE HIM!"_

She would have. She would have thrown herself in front of a thousand blades if it meant protecting the ones she loved. She would have cut down each and every one of Howe's men if she had had the chance. And yet. Had she really become this ruthless?  
Elizabeth made her way back to camp, trying to repress her fear of retribution. Everyone was gathered and eating their evening meal, and she rushed by the fire down to the lake. Soon enough, she heard footsteps behind her. Without even turning back, she spoke up.

"Not now, Alistair."

"You're back in camp", he said, raising his voice, "I think now is a _great_ time."

The young girl turned around abruptly and raised her head, as if ready for her sentence. The young templar stared down angrily at the girl before him.

"You killed Connor", he pointed at her in accusation.

"Yes."

"You killed him, a little boy! How could you do that?"

The two wardens stared at each other.

"I thought…", Elizabeth started, "I thought… This was the only rational way."

"You could have let the arlessa sacrifice herself!", the templar was fuming, "Lady Isolde is the one that started all of this, isn't she? Blood magic or no, if someone had to die it should have been her! This is the arl's son we're talking about. What do you think he'll say when we revive him!"

"YOU THINK THIS WAS EASY FOR ME?"

Her sudden scream almost unsettled Alistair.

"YOU THINK I LIKE MAKING THESE DECISIONS?"

"I just don't know how you could do it, how you could-"

"Because YOU WON'T!", the young girl screamed, preventing him to finish his sentence, "Don't you remember in Lothering? Saying you were too much of a basket case to do so? 'Cause I do!"

A couple of seconds passed, as a cold wind came from the lake and shuffled the leaves of the tall trees around them.

"You sent me away on purpose. You lied to me."

"So did you", the female warden replied, coldly.

"What? I didn't… This is BESIDE THE POINT! I owe the arl MORE than THIS!"

Elizabeth had heard enough for the night. She was exhausted from the effort of bottling up her anger, her frustration, and all the heavy duties on her shoulders.

"Then I apologize, Alistair, for being _such _a disappointment. I don't know who you think you are to JUDGE me, but I've had enough of your CONSTANT critiques. You think I'm having the time of my life here? My family is DEAD. The Grey Wardens are GONE. And I am left having to unite the lands against an unknown evil. Alone!", Elizabeth's cheeks were damp with tears, her voice broke "Whatever you think I am… I'm not. I'm not a leader."

Alistair watched the young girl break down in front of him, mystified.

"So you know what?", she continued, "SCREW. YOU."

Elizabeth then reached inside her armor and took off a long silver amulet from around her neck. She threw the pendant against his chest and walked off to the lake. The warden looked in awe at the necklace he had caught in his hands.  
He suddenly forgot about his anger and glanced in the direction where his companion had taken off. He caught a glimpse of her sitting down in front of the dark water. When he made it to her, he noticed she was crying, as silent as she was.

"Elizabeth?"

"Go away."

"No please, Elizabeth, I'm… I'm sorry", the warden sat down next to her, "You were right. I'm… I'm such an ass. I should know better than second-guess you like this. I should have told you about my birthright, and I know you did what you had to with Connor. I apologize. It's just… All this death-"

"Is unbearable", the young girl cut off, sternly. She glanced at the man next to her. He was looking out in the distance, pensively, his hands clenched on the pendant she had just thrown at him.

"Is that… Your mother's amulet?", she finally asked. The templar turned his gaze to meet Elizabeth's eyes.

"I suppose there have been other amulets like these made… But I've never seen any others. It looks _very old_."

"I found it at Redcliff castle, in the study"

Alistair looked at her in amazement.

"He must have repaired it and kept it! I don't understand… Why would he do that?"

Elizabeth shrugged, "I don't know, but either way, it's yours."

"I… Thank you. I mean it", the warden said, a hint of sorrow in his voice, "I thought I had lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this if he recovers. _When_ he recovers that is. I wish I had this a long time ago…"

Elizabeth bowed her head with a faint smile and stood to leave him to his reminiscing. But she heard him stand and felt his hand on her bare forearm. His touch was warm, even by the freezing air of night.

"Did you remember me mentioning it? Woah! Huh, I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things"

"Well it's not like I really have a choice!", she answered with a playful smile, "You talk too much. It's a problem."

"Oh, Ha-Ha!", he replied with a smug face.

Making their way back to camp, Elizabeth stopped in front of the deserted fire and turned around to Alistair.

"I'm still mad at you for not telling me about your birthright"

The young templar sighed.

"I know, I should have told you… It's just after the battle, it seemed like it was too late by then! How do you just tell someone that?

"Alistair!", the girl replied in shock, "it's come up SO many times! And this is not about the whole 'I thought you trusted me' issue, but more of a higher, political, Loghain is on the freakin' throne issue!"

"Yes…", the warden shook his head, "It was important for you to know. I just hate that it shaped my entire life. I never wanted it. I certainly don't want to be king! The very idea of it terrifies me!"

Elizabeth took a step toward him and crossed her arms, raising at eyebrow.

"I thought you liked nice clothes?"

The templar laughed lightly.

"Well, that's not the only thing you get when King. I'm sorry. I… I was just hoping that you would like me for who I am…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Alistair. Fair enough, we're at each other's throat most of the time and you're a blithering idiot…", Elizabeth smiled at him and rested one hand on his cold breastplate, "But I do like you."

But before she could enter her tent, Alistair rested his hand on hers and said, almost in a whisper, "You're not alone, Elizabeth. Against the Blight, I mean. You're not alone"

And with a nod, she bid him goodnight.


	13. Falling

_**A/N **: Things should be going up hill now between Elizabeth and Alistair, but I won't say another word! Thank you Tigress for being an amazing and supporting beta!_

Reviews are always appreciated.

_Everything belongs to Bioware._

* * *

**13. Falling**

Silence filled the walls of the sleeping Redcliffe castle. The fine days were coming to an end, and the hot and humid nights were getting more and more damp. Elizabeth lay on a warm, white sheeted bed, listening to the slow weeping of the rain against the tall windows of her room. Their journey to the urn of sacred ashes had taken them longer then she had expected, and when they had finally returned to the castle and had revived the arl, the young girl couldn't help but feel anguish at the fleeting of time. Autumn was just around the corner; already the tall trees were turning crimson and gold. They needed to find the Dalish before the snow covered the land, so they could flee underground in Orzammar and escape camping in the freezing cold. The young girl had planned out their whole journey, studying maps, reading every scroll and book she could put her hands on, even looting tomes and other volumes from abandoned libraries. And besides the menace of the Blight looming in her head, she couldn't help but have her thoughts dwell on what had happened in the temple where they had found the urn, and much to her own surprise, on Alistair.

When they had entered the temple, they had encountered…What had they encountered? A ghost? A vision? A magical spirit? The guardian that protected the sacred stronghold had questioned each person before allowing them to pass through the heavy carved doors. Of course he had asked about her family, had pointed out her guilt, her anger, her self-hatred. But she had gotten so used to these feelings that she had answered the apparition without a quiver in her voice. Her fellow warden, on the other hand…

.

.

.

"_Alistair, knight and warden… You wonder if things would have been different if you were with Duncan on the battlefield."_

_ The voice of the Guardian echoed through the stone hall, his tone seeming to come from another world. Elizabeth glanced at Alistair and saw the light in his amber eyes slowly die._

"_You could have shielded him from the striking blow", the Guardian continued, "You wonder, don't you, if you should have died, and not him?"_

_ The young girl watched her companion stare right through the phantom, his eyes going dark, as a shadow passed over them. She noticed him tighten one of his __fists__, and she soon realized he was forcing himself not to tremble._

"_I…", the young knight gathered his thoughts, "Yes". Alistair looked down at the ground, a sorrowful frown lightly taking over his usually bright and joyful face. Was he pushing back tears? A second passed before he finally raised back his head. "If Duncan had been saved, and not me, everything would be better. If I'd just had the chance, maybe…"_

_ His voice had trembled for a bit on his last words. He didn't finish his sentence, dark thoughts probably taking over his mind. Elizabeth looked back at the Guardian in awe. She had known that Alistair still felt guilty about Ostagar and about Duncan's death, but she had never realized that what he felt was exactly what she felt about her family. She glanced back at him and much to her surprise met his eyes. She noticed they had lost their sparkling whiskey color. They both looked at each other knowingly, and before turning back, Elizabeth bowed her head to him and mouthed silent words. _

"_You're not alone__.__"_

_._

_._

_._

Alistair sat on his bed, staring at the shadowy lake outside the guest room's window he had been given. The sound of the rain had always soothed him as a child, he had often listened to its cradling drops, falling asleep and escaping to a better place in his dreams. He should have been long asleep by now, considering it had been a long time since he had had a proper night of rest, or a proper bed, but his thoughts were held, much to his surprise by his baffling fellow warden.

He had always felt alone. When he was a boy, he had spent a lonesome childhood in this very castle. And he had then spent his teenage years in solitude while being trained as a templar. Isolation and loneliness had been his only companions. But when he had joined the wardens, he had discovered a new life, a new family… That had been taken away from him as fast as it had been given. And yet. He remembered Elizabeth's mute whisper to him at the entrance of the temple.

They both suffered from the same pain, but they were not alone. They were not strangers, they were not enemies. And when their eyes had met at that very moment, they had both realized. They had each other.

Alistair remembered the look on his friend's face when she had faced her father's phantom in the gauntlet. A ghost from the past. He had appeared out of nowhere after they had solved a room full of mystifying riddles. Elizabeth's response to the apparition was still fresh in his mind.

.

.

.

"_My Dearest Child…"_

_ The sudden appearance of this mysterious man had startled the young templar. His thoughts had remained on the last riddle, 'true kings from tyrants. Mercy'. But the way Elizabeth had stiffened at the sight of the man shaped ghost had made him snap out of his reverie._

"…_Papa?"_

_ Her voice was soft, childish, filled with both love and grief. Alistair instantly realized who the apparition was. But before the ghost could talk again, Elizabeth spoke up right away._

"_I know you are no longer part of this world, though I wish it were not so, Father."_

_ The tone of her voice had changed drastically in a matter of seconds. One moment she had let her vulnerable and hurt self be taken aback by the sudden apparition of what she missed the most in the world, and the next moment she had raised those impenetrable walls, deepening her now cold voice._

"_You know that I am gone", the spirit answered, "And all your prayers and whishes will not bring me back…"_

_ The young knight watched Elizabeth lower her eyes in pain, as if the words spoken had struck a painful truth._

"_I know you miss me, Pup", her father shaped spirit continued, compassion and regret in its voice, "But my death, and my life, __no longer have__ a hold on you". _

_ The spirit spoke matter-of-factly, as if summoning her to be this very way. Alistair noticed his companion bite her lower lip, as woe fell over her whole body._

"_This is how it should be. Set your eyes on the horizon, do not look back, do not falter."_

_ The encouraging words made the young girl straighten up __to her full__ height, standing tall, now facing and looking straight in the eyes of her father's spirit. And at that very moment, Alistair acknowledged her in all her gracious nobility. The last of the Cousland, proud, strong, sensible._

_ He watched the woman obtain from the phantom a mirrored amulet, who let her eyes linger on the silver jewelry. A soft smile appeared at the corner of her perfectly shaped lips and the warden took a step behind her and laid a hand, in comfort, on her shoulder. She glanced back at him in wonder, and smiled. For the first time, she genuinely gave him a caring smile. Taken aback, he then gazed at her as she let out a relief-filled sigh that seemed let go of all her fear, __replaced by__ determination._

_._

_.  
._

Elizabeth arose from her bed and grabbed the two small stones on the wooden table next to her. She walked to the small writing desk sitting beneath the rain spattered window. Using the two small rocks to create a spark, she lit the wax candles positioned on the desk , piled high with books and scrolls she had gathered so far in her quest. It was again one of those sleepless nights, but against all odds, she was not in that much pain, nor was she angry. She sat at the dark wooden desk and unrolled one of the scrolls of Banastor she had found in the ruined temple. She tried to read for a bit, but soon concluded her mind was too full to concentrate on the ancient text.

She raised her eyes and rested her head between the two palms of her hands, both elbows on the table. Staring out her window, she suddenly realized that in one of the windows of the castle wall on her right stood Alistair, who was gazing at the storm across the lake. She immediately wondered why he was not getting some proper sleep, before reminding herself with a quiet chuckle that she herself was not in a deep slumber. Elizabeth had a sudden urge to open her window and call out to him, until she suddenly realized that the man was shirtless. The young girl felt heat rise to her cheeks as the sight brought back a precise and embarrassing memory from the last test of the gauntlet.

.

.  
.

_The party entered a vast room. The grey walls were carved with large vaults, and at the far __end__ stood stone stairs __leading up to__ a breathtaking statue of Andraste. There was something mystifying about the place, and the air felt holy and sacred. But the staircase was blocked by a ring of magical fire. Before them stood an old__stone altar, covered in thick dust. Elizabeth took a step in front of it and ran her gloved hand on top of the ancient pedestal, and made out __a distinct messaged carved into the stone._

"_Another riddle…", Alistair groaned._

"_Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit, King and slave, lord and beggar ; Be born anew in the Maker's sight."_

_ As the female warden read the inscribed words out loud, her companions sighed in desperation and fatigue. Everyone was tired of the enigmas and puzzles the place held. The Urn was __only__ a couple of footsteps away, and still completely out of reach. Elizabeth studied the words for a moment._

"_King and slave, lord and beggar", she quoted, "Different men, but men none the less… What do they all have in common? Their bodies?". She crossed her arms and raised one hand to her chin, tapping her lips in speculation. "Cast off the trappings of worldly life…Oh."_

_ Her companions looked at her with inquiry._

"_I think we need to cast off our equipment here to be order to pass through these flames", she turned around to face Alistair, Zevran, and Morrigan, "All of it."_

"_What? You mean we have to walk through in our…", the young knight almost shrieked, "underwear?"_

"_Perfect!", the Antivan elf declared, "Once we have seen each other's bodies, who knows what desire and lust will surface and -"_

_ But the assassin was immediately silenced by Morrigan's forceful glare. The witch then immediately set on the altar her staff and started taking off her black leather boots. Zevran imitated her __immediately__ with a shrug. Only Alistair and Elizabeth froze for a moment at the thought of taking off their armors. _

_ Elizabeth was not ashamed of her body. She didn't even really care if Morrigan saw her in her delicates, for after all, she was a woman like herself. But to do so in front of two men, made her extremely uncomfortable. After all, she still held the innocence of her youth. __Yet, this__ was the final key to the ashes, and so she reluctantly took off her armor._

_ From the corner of the eye, she caught glimpse of Alistair bending down to untie the lace of his left boot. He had taken off his chestplate, giving the female warden a full sight of his bare and strong back. Elizabeth felt a sudden tinkle in her lower stomach as she let her eyes linger __on__ the muscular and well built shoulders of the templar. And as the young man stood up and turned around to set his boots near the altar, their eyes met for a second, before Elizabeth looked away, her cheeks burning red._

_._

_.  
._

Alistair continued staring at the foggy lake that lay at the foot of the castle. It was a beautiful sight, even with the stormy night. He raised his eyes to the clouded sky. He was going to miss these clear summer nights where every star in the heavens could be seen. Perhaps he could ask Elizabeth to teach him their names, later. As his thoughts remained on the female warden, he couldn't help but remember the final enigma of the gauntlet.

He had caught her gaze when they had had to undress to pass through the ring of fire and reach the ashes. He was unsure if it was mere coincidence or if he had caught her… Staring at him. The thought made him blush and he felt blood rush to his groin. Trying to repress the feelings, he rested his forehead against the icy glass of the window. That's when he saw her.

She was sitting at a desk, piles of books around her. He recognized her right away for her room was lit by a few candles. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she was wearing nothing but what seemed to be a white linen dress, the thin straps giving sight of her slender yet strong shoulders. The sleeping attire was light and flowed slightly, showing part of the warden's cleavage. It had not been until the gauntlet that the templar had realized how well built his companion was. Tall, slim, but with generous breasts and… He tried to push the thought out of his head. He was not this kind of man. And yet. He couldn't help but admire her.

The young knight suddenly realized that the woman at the window was looking at him. He saw her raise one hand and wave softly. He awkwardly imitated her, not knowing what to do with himself. For a moment, they only looked at each other, a growing smile on both their faces. Finally, Elizabeth reached for her window and wrote on the glass's steam one single word.

"Goodnight"

And the young woman stepped back from the window and blew her candles out, letting her room fall into complete darkness.

Alistair stood there, still staring at the word she had written. His heart had skipped a beat when he had realized she was standing at her window. He did not know where this feeling came from nor what it meant, but one thing he was certain of, was that this was just the beginning.


	14. Reality Check

**A/N**: _Aaah, Goldanna. Elizabeth does not approve, to put it lightly. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! __Many thanks to Tigress, who even with her own gigantic novel re-write, still betas these chapters for me. You're the best!_

_All belongs to Bioware. _

* * *

**14. Reality-Check**

Morning was just about to break when the party pulled up camp. The companions had left the Redcliff castle the very morning after reviving the arl, and had been travelling now for a few days. Elizabeth had decided to take the long way to the Brecilian forest by taking the North road and going through the coast lands up to Denerim to then engage the forest by the west road. Word had been sent that the darkspawn had already invaded the south of Denerim, and that Lothering had been destroyed. The female warden wanted to avoid going near these areas at all costs.

Alistair shifted on his feet. Having already packed his things, he was waiting for the others to get ready. He glanced nervously at his fellow warden, who sat on a large log polishing her small dagger, a soft and concentrated frown on her face. He couldn't help but smile at the small crinkle between her two thin eyebrows caused by her scar that she would get when she was deep in thought, or when she would scream at him during one of their usual heated arguments.  
The templar kept glancing back at her apprehensively. He wanted to ask her something, a personal request, but he was very unsure on how she would react, or if she would even accept his demand. The young templar finally plucked up his courage and walked up to her.

"Elizabeth?", the woman looked up, raising one eyebrow as an answer, "Maybe this is not the best time to be thinking about this, but I've something to ask you."

The young girl brought her attention back to her dagger and resumed its polishing.

"Spit it out Alistair, and make it quick."

The tone of her voice had not been harsh or aggressive. But the templar was starting to know his fellow companion enough to understand that she was the kind of person who wanted people to get straight to the point. He liked that blunt honesty in her.

"Since we're taking the route to Denerim, I was wondering if we could stop there to… Look someone up.

Elizabeth's concentration on her work did not falter and she simply asked, "Who?".

"My sister. Well, half-sister. My mother had a daughter, only, I never knew about her. I don't think she knew about me either! And when I became a Grey Warden I did some research and –"

"-And you want to go see her?", Elizabeth stood and placed her weapon into its case that was tightly set on her back. The templar nodded.

"With the Blight coming and everything, I don't know if I'll ever get a chance to see her. Maybe I can help her, warn her from the danger. I don't know."

The young girl studied him for a moment, a reproachful look slowly making its way to her face.

"And you couldn't have done this when we were in Denerim a couple of weeks ago?"

Alistair let out an embarrassed smile, raising a hand to the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Ah! Well, um… It's not that… It's just, well…"

"You don't make sense, Alistair. It's annoying.", the female warden immediately said as a lop sided smile slowly creped on her mouth, "But I suppose we could make a stop in the capital and take an afternoon off."

* * *

After weeks of travelling, they had finally made it to Denerim. It was a little before sunset, and the city was lit with a golden autumn light, the tall towers crowned with grey, rain-filled clouds. The party stopped before a small inn where they planned to spend the night. Everyone gathered around the entrance of the door to listen to the woman who had been leading them. As strange as it seemed to the young warden, she had gotten used to how her companions looked to her when a decision had to be made, or simply when they wanted to know what to do.

"Well everyone, you can do as you wish tonight. Remember not to idle around the streets much, you've seen the bandits there for yourself. And I want everyone here, up and ready at sunrise. Anyone who's still in bed will be left here in a heartbeat. Understood?"

They all nodded. Some entered the inn right away, and others hastily rushed to the markets and shops. Elizabeth turned around to Alistair who was fidgeting behind her and glancing from the panels that indicated the street names to the Denerim map he had in his hands. The young girl looked at him, shaking her head.

"Alistair."

But the young templar didn't seem to have heard her. He kept glancing nervously at a door on the other side of the square and back to his map, so much so that Elizabeth snatched the old vellum out of his hand to slap the back of his head with it. The young man suddenly snapped out of it and frowned at the woman, exasperated.

"Heyyy! That hurt!"

"Oh don't be such a cry baby. That didn't hurt, you want hurt?", Elizabeth raised one arm, getting her hand ready to smack the whining out of the templar, "THAT'S hurt!". But Alistair was quicker than her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer with one step.

"So that's how you treat your astonishing and good-looking fellow warden? By hitting him?", he said with a low and mischievous voice, a long elegant eyebrow raised.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to smile back and removed her wrist from his grasp. He was close. Too close.

"If it makes him listen to me, then yes", she simply answered taking a step back from Alistair. She had never noticed how nice his eyes were in the golden light of the sun. Clearing her throat, she then added, "Found your sister's house?"

They both walked up to the wooden door of a small timber house. The two little windows were covered by thick white curtains, keeping anyone from looking inside the residence. Alistair stopped in front of it and looked at it for a moment, uncertainly. Elizabeth stood next to him and stared at him, questioningly.

"You know what?", the warden said after a couple of seconds, "This was a bad idea. I REALLY don't know what to expect and, let's just leave. We don't have time for this!".

He turned around and took a few steps in the opposite direction of the house. Elizabeth had expected such a reaction from him, and she also knew this was a terrible idea. This would only end in some sort of drama, but still, she couldn't pass the opportunity for Alistair to be taught a life-lesson.  
She launched herself at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back to the door.

"Nooo Alistair. We came here for you, now let's go."

The young man pouted at her, looking very much like a restless child ; it was almost charming.

"Please come with me?"

Elizabeth nodded and they both entered the small house, the young girl's arm still wrapped around Alistair's.

.

.

The house was poorly furnished and barely lit. They stood in what seemed to be the main room, the lighting coming from a few candles and from the fire roaring in the chimney at the back . On their left was a long stilted table, where were set a bunch of baskets of dirty linens. Before them sat a red-headed woman on a small stool who's hands were deep into a large hot water-filled steel container. Her back was facing the two companions, and she was wearing a ragged dress that had been patched with other pieces of cloth that didn't match the original color of the garment. The scent of soap lingered in the air.

Hearing them enter, the woman turned around and nodded at them. Her face was covered in sweat from the labor, but also from the temperature of the room. The heat was hardly tolerable. Her cheeks were hollow, and her face was marked with fatigue and precariousness. Perhaps hunger too. As she acknowledged them, she shouted from over her shoulder.

"Eh? You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find any better", she then raised a finger at the sky and almost screamed, "And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you either, she's foreign and she'll ROB YOU BLIND."

Alistair looked anxiously at Elizabeth, who encouraged him to speak with a nod of her head.

"I'm… Not here to have any wash done! My name's Alistair. I'm, well, this may sound sort of strange but, are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose… I'm your brother!"

Elizabeth resisted the urge to strike her own face with her palm in exasperation. Alistair had been everything but smooth in announcing this. The red-headed woman glanced at the templar with a mix of confusion and antipathy.

"My what? I am Goldanna, yes… How to do you know my name?", the tone of her voice became suspicious, "What kind of tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

But her distrust did not discourage Alistair, who continued with the same winning tone. As he explained to her the issue, the laundress's back stiffened as she stood up from her stool with speed and rushed before the two wardens almost in furry.

"YOU!", her voice had gone up an octave, almost in a shriek, "They told me you was DEAD! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!"

As Goldanna and Alistair bantered for a moment, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a building annoyance within herself towards the red-headed woman before her. Besides the fact that she had a poor use of the English language and that her ears hurt at every grammar mistake she made, the woman was also unkind, insolent, and just plain rude. Elizabeth had never expected much of her, but she had definatly not expected _that_.

"You killed mother you did, and I've had to scrape by all this time? That coin didn't last long, and when I came back they RAN me OFF!"

"Hey now!", Elizabeth glared at the woman, "THAT is just unfair."

Goldanna returned the warden's glare in the blink of an eye.

"And who in the Maker's name are _you_?", her tone had become cruel, disdainful, "Some tart, following after his riches, I expect?"

And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Before Alistair could reply to her, the female warden stepped up to the laundress, her face only a couple of inches to hers, one hand resting on the knife she always carried at her belt.

"Elizabeth Eleanor Elethea Cousland, teyrna of Highever _and_ Grey Warden. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but it really isn't.", the young girl smile scornfully, "So how about you apologize to me and my friend for being a complete eye-offending and pestiferous fleabag?"

But Goldana was not impressed, and continued on with her scornful remarks.

"Oooh I _see. _A Prince and a Grey Warden! Well who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to ME."

Elizabeth had turned on her heel and had walked up to the door to get out of the house before she committed unfortunate murder on the foul woman. But after the words Goldanna had just shouted, the female warden hastily turned around and before Alistair could even guess what she was going to do, she launched herself at the red-head and threw her fist right into her face.

"ELIZABETH!"

Alistair stared her with a mix of shock and hilarity. But before he could address the issue any further, Goldanna stumbled back on her feet, one hand on her bloody nose.

"HELP! HELP!", she was screaming at the top of her lungs, "I'M BEING ASSAULTED IN MY OWN HOUSE!"

Alistair tried to reach out to her but she slapped his hand away.

"I don't _know_ you, boy. I've got FIVE MOUTHS TO FEED! So unless you can help me with that, I have less then NO USE for you!"

Her shrieks had become more then a pain to Elizabeth's ears, who wasn't quite done with dealing with her.

"Five mouths? WELL WHERE IS THE FATHER? Or is there more than one?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! THE BOTH OF YOU! NOW!"

And before the young girl could do any more damage, Alistair grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the house.

Once they were outside, Elizabeth turned to the young knight and crossed her arms over her breastplate, pouting. Alistair stared at her grimly.

"You shouldn't have punched her."

"Well, she deserved it.", Elizabeth answered, shrugging.

The two wardens stayed before the small house for a moment, without saying a word. Finally Alistair spoke up. Disbelief filled his voice.

"_This_ is the family I've been wondering about all my life? That _shrew_ is my sister? I can't believe it…"

Elizabeth raised her emerald eyes to meet Alistair's. She suddenly became aware at how much the situation had hurt him. She instantly regretted her actions in the house, she shouldn't have acted sorely on impulses. And yet, that woman inside had infuriated her.

"I… I guess I expected her to accept me without question", he continued, "Isn't that what family is suppose to do?". The young warden sighed and raised one hand to his face, rubbing his temple, "I… I feel like a _complete_ idiot."

"Alistair, you're not an idiot.", Elizabeth said in a soothing voice, "Well, sometimes you are but that's beside the point.", she then added with a smile. "I know it's easier to think that people all have Good in them, but that's not the case. People are cruel, self-centered, and always, always out for themselves". She sighed, sadly, "You should learn that."

"I suppose you're right. I should.", the templar then shrugged and gestured the inn, "Let's just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore…"

* * *

The inn was full with people and chatter. The wardens had sat at a large round table and had soon been joined by their companions. Their table was filled with food and pints of ale, everyone eating and drinking to their heart's content. They were so used to camping in the cold and eating stew that each time they had the opportunity to sleep in proper beds and to fill their stomachs with actual food, they did so with a mighty pleasure. Elizabeth suddenly realized how much ale she and her companions had drank tonight.  
Leliana was of course going on and on about the shopping she had done today.

"I found such maaaarvelous dresses at this little shop not far from the market place. Oh, you would have LOVED it, Elizabeth. Stunning dresses, very simple too, they would have suited you perfectly!"

The young girl almost choked on the piece of chicken she had been chewing on and answered the bard with a laugh.

"My mother never managed to put me in a dress, Leliana. When I was small everyone took me for a boy because I wore my hair really short and would wear my brother's old clothes."

As the memory lingered in Elizabeth's mind, sadness flashed in her eyes but immediately disappeared when Alistair spoke up to mock her.

"Well that doesn't surprise me. You're worse than an immoral PRINCOX!", the templar giggled at his own word, "Princox. Prin-princooox."

Elizabeth fiercely looked back at him and grabbed his pint, and before knocking back the last of its contents, answered :

"And you speak a whole deal of nothing. _All the time_."

Morrigan's crystal and harmonious laugh reverberated through the room, as if agreeing with the female warden. Alistair glared at her.

Elizabeth looked around the table with pleasure. She and the people who were travelling with her were all very different. They differed from their point of views and opinions, from their backgrounds and previous ways of life. And yet, seeing them here, all gathered around this table together, warmed her heart and made her realize that whatever had happened, and whatever may, she knew they would be by her side.  
As Morrigan nodded to the female warden and quietly left the table back to her room, Elizabeth acknowledged that her companions were completely drunk. Wynne and Leliana were having a philosophical debate on the Chant of Light, Zevran was trying, and succeeding to convince Alistair to get a tattoo, and Sten was admiring in awe, as if staring at mountains of gold, the cookies he had bought at the market. Biding goodnight, she stood and stumbled through the corridor that lead to the rooms.

She made her way inside the small bedroom and collapsed on the small bed. Her armor and weapons were set on an armor stand in the corner of her room and she reached into her bag to grab her sleeping linens out. As she did so, she heard someone stumble at her door and give three large knocks.

"Lizziiiiiiiiie?"

The young warden instantly recognized Alistair's voice. Alistair's drunk voice. But before she could answer to him he opened the door and tripped inside, barely holding himself up on his legs. Elizabeth couldn't help but burst into laughter. Alistair, armor-less but with normal clothes on, and completely red from the alcohol was a priceless sight. She urged him to lower his voice.

"Sshhh! You're going to wake everyone up! And don't call me that. Ever, ever!"

The warden chuckled and sat on the bed next to her.

"Lizzie, I've been doing some thinking."

"Really? You can do that?", the young girl female answered, a grin on her face. The templar straightened himself and shot a glare at her.

"Ha-ha, so witty.", he shook his head and leaned towards Elizabeth, "I mean you were right about… About my sis… The red headed shrew. I… I need to stand up for myself! MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS!"

Elizabeth covered his mouth with her two hands, laughing.

"Shhh! Alistair, shut up!"

The templar put his own hand over Elizabeth's with a taken aback look in his eyes. He finally managed to remove the female warden's grip. Their hands remained together.

"What I wanted to tell you…", he whispered, "Is that I need to think about myself for a change, or I'll… I'll NEVER be happy."

The two wardens looked into each other's eyes, silence filling the room.

"Is that… All you wanted to say?", she murmured, suddenly realizing how close his face was to hers. She could feel his breath against her lips as his eyes lingered on them.

"I just… Wanted to thank you.", he finally said, leaning back, "Being with you is the one bright spot out of everything that's happened."

Elizabeth smiled, nodding.  
And as fast as he had entered her room, he was gone.


	15. Retrospective

**A/N** : _Last chapter before... *drumroll* ORZAMMAR! I know how unpopular this part of the game is to most people. BUT, I've got some surprises for you. So do not fear, my friends! But back to this chapter. What can I say, Elizabeth is a special one. I hope you enjoy this!  
Many thanks to everyone who comments, subscribes, favs. Your support feeds my soul :-p_

_Thank you Tigress for being a great beta,  
And thank you Bioware, for such giving us such inspiration. _

* * *

**15. Retrospective**

Elizabeth paced in frustration, her heavy footsteps echoing through the large stone hall of the ruins. Before her stood a handful of werewolves that had stopped the party from going any further. She held her sword and dagger tightly in each hand, ready to strike at anything that made a sudden move towards her or one of her companions.

When they had finally found the Dalish elves in the vast Brecilian forest, after weeks of searching, they found themselves once again in the middle of a situation that needed their assistance. It had infuriated the female warden. For once she would have loved for someone to just agree to the terms of the treaty without wanting anything in return. But things did not work that way, and she wasn't ruthless enough to leave innocent beings to die without some kind of justice. She stared at the werewolves gravely, not taking her dark eyes off of them. They were savage beasts, their roars betraying the violence that haunted their souls. Did they even have any?

The creature that was leading them was waiting for an answer. She had slaughtered her way down to their lair, killing the youngest, butchering the giant spiders that crawled the ruins. The wolves had not been fooled, they understood that she and her companions were strong, but perhaps, just perhaps, she still had a glimpse of mercy and would be willing to parley.

"The Lady believes that you may not be aware of everything you should be", growled the werewolf, "So she has asked that you are brought to her."

Elizabeth did not trust them. As she examined the beasts that surrounded their leader, she couldn't help but feel hostility and anger emanating from every inch of their body. And as strange as it seemed, their rage seemed to match hers, held deep inside her own heart.  
The young warden took a few steps towards the leading beast and settled herself right under his nose. Putting her weapons back in their sheaths, she looked into the beast's black eyes. Nothing. There was nothing besides darkness. Perhaps she was leading her men into an ambush, perhaps the decision was completely careless, but after a moment of silence, she agreed to his proposition.

And so the party walked right into the lion's den.

* * *

The old ruins had been taken over by the thick vegetation of the forest, the tall stone walls covered with ivy. The dark marble flagstones were broken in some places, letting large mysterious roots come out from the earth. Majestic trees dwelled inside the hall, their leaves serving as a natural crown, bathing the place with a greenish light. Human ruins, tamed by the wild nature itself. This gave the hall an eerie feel.  
They were surrounded by werewolves, and Elizabeth was starting to think that this had been a bad idea. And as the beasts cried out their pain and furry, a spirit appeared beside them. She was dressed with nothing but leaves and branches, her faultless breasts covered by her long black hair. She walked as if in a daze, and serenely rested a hand on a restless werewolf. Peacefulness and composure filled the area, as if serenity was emanating from her. For a moment, even, Elizabeth almost forgot the dark need of reprisal that embraced her heart. And yet.

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the forest."

Her voice was indistinguishable, resonating in the hall, or in her head – the warden couldn't tell. There was something soothing about her tone, quiet and serene. But Elizabeth tried to not be fooled by the spirit before her.

"You wanted to talk? Well here we are. But make it quick, I tend to lack patience."

And as soon as her disdainful words had come out, Swiftrunner launched at her.

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO THE LADY IN THIS MANNER!"

His impulsive roar had startled the warden, swiftly grabbing her dagger. As she glanced to her companions, she noticed Alistair had drawn his own sword and shield. He stared coldly at the beast before her.

"Hush, Swiftrunner.", the spirit's voice came from behind the wolf, soothingly, "Your urge for battle has only seen the deaths of the very ones you have been trying to save… Is that what you want?"

And as she uttered these words, they acted like a spell on the beast, but strangely enough, on Elizabeth too. They spoke to her, and brought back to her head memories, and actions she fought to forget.

.

.

"_Mother…"_

_Connor's voice is weak. He is in pain and she can see it. His body is still, numb. The quiver in his voice betrays his fear and the excruciating pain he is suffering through._

"_It hurts… So bad. Oh… It hurts!"_

_His mother's comforting words don't take effect. The demon soars._

"_YOU ARE PATHETIC."_

_Nothing can be done. She brought this upon him. Upon this family. Upon herself. She's trying to save a world from the Blight by spreading more death on innocents._

_Nothing can be done. Not anymore._

_._

_._

"I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf… He struggles with his nature…"

The warden snapped out of her memory and studied the face of the Lady for a moment, pushing away her retrospection. This was not the time, she knew better. Still, she wondered if her companions had experienced the same thing and as she turned around, she noticed the confused and sad looks on their faces. This spirit possessed strong magic.

Shaking her head, she stared at the black eyes of the woman standing near her.

"As do we all, Lady.", Elizabeth replied, desolately.

"Truer words were never spoken", the spirit's voice was filled with sorrow, "But few could claim the same as these creatures, that their very nature is a curse forced upon them…"

.

.

_He is covered in blood, and yet, his strength does not falter. He drinks in each and every word the senior Warden's grave voice says. And she is helpless._

"_Your daughter will join the Grey Wardens."_

_Her father demands justice from her, fills her heart with revenge and retribution. She, a lonely girl who's only wish is to read books and ride her horse._

_._

_.  
_ Elizabeth closed her eyes as the spirit explained Zathrian's treacherous plan. His pain. His desire of eternal revenge. She did not know what kind of magic was acting here, but it filled her heart with melancholy and empathy.

Seeking Zathrian and bringing him before the wolves, the warden realized that the Elven Keeper was nothing but his own ghost, his soul blackened by his rage, his heart eaten away by anger and pain he had held on to for so long.

Afraid of what he had become, afraid of how similar their pain was, she bowed to the spirit, and launched herself at Zathrian.

* * *

The companions were all sitting around a fire in the Dalish camp. After having broken the curse and giving back to the enchanted humans their true form, they had come back to meet with the elves. Elizabeth had refused to carry Zathrian's body back, thus the remaining hunters had gone out to the ruins to seek him. The warden knew the Dalish were grateful, but she also knew they were still considered as strangers and had decided to depart as soon as possible. Exchanging a few words with the new Keeper, the warden gestured to her companions to go on without her.

"I'll catch up with you", the young girl then turned around to the keeper, "We shall settle our camp a bit further north. A messenger will be sent for when the Dalish will be needed."And with a bow of her head, she turned on her heel and crossed the moonlit camp as elves saluted her and thanked her for saving the hunters.

.

.

Alistair arrived back at the settled camp. He had gathered enough wood from the forest to have a fire lasting throughout the night and laid it down. Wynne walked up to him.

"Need any help lighting that thing?"

"Ah, yes please. I'd hate to have to ask the other malefic witch over there.", he answered, rubbing the back of his hand against his front head and gesturing towards Morrigan.

After the fire had been lit, the two companions lay back for a moment and enjoyed the mild breeze of the evening. The sound of leaves rustling had a soothing effect on the two, and Alistair closed his eyes as Wynne sighed in release.

"Ah… It's good to rest after such a tremendous day."

"Indeed", replied Alistair, opening his eyes and glancing at the old mage, "Tell me Wynne, I have a question."

"I am all ears, child."

"The Lady of the Forest, down in the ruins", he started apprehensively, "She… made me feel things, remember painful thoughts when she spoke of the wolves…"

The mage chuckled and looked back at the young templar.

"Yes, me too.", her face darkened a bit, "The forest, and Nature in general, holds a powerful source of magic. We mages can sometime call on that power to aid us. But this very spirit held something stronger. It made us feel empathy, sorrow, even compassion throughout our own painful memories.", she sighed, "It is something I had only encountered in books."

Alistair remained thoughtful for a moment, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames. He had felt a lot of confusion down in the ruins, his past resurging at an unexpected moment. His royal blood he refused to accept, Duncan's death, his solitude. Everything had been extremely vivid. He wondered what Elizabeth's had felt at that very moment, for she had looked terrified. Her own fighting had been even more violent than usual.  
His stream of thoughts were interrupted with Leliana laying a hand on his shoulder before sitting next to him with a smile.

"I would have loved to see this spirit you talk of", she exclaimed, "She seemed very wise and sensitive.", she then added with a pout, "But Elizabeth rarely takes me along on her errands. I don't think she likes me very much…"

"Don't be so hard on yourself Leliana", the old mage caringly said, "I think our fearless leader tends to keep to herself a lot, and speaks only when it matters.", she then added with a smile, "Silence is golden, is it not?"

"Well she speaks with Alistair, and not necessarily about matter-ful things, that's for sure…", Leliana replied, a knowing grin on her face.

The young knight looked back and forth, dumbfounded by the two women sitting beside him.

"Well, what? She's our leader and my fellow Grey Warden. We… have bonded."

"Oh yes, I'm sure you have", giggled Leliana.

"I've seen the way you look at her. With great interest I may add.", Wynne went on, a playful gleam in her eye, "In fact, I believe you are… enraptured."

"Like I said, she's our leader. I look at her for guidance.", Alistair hastily answered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

"Oooh I see. And what guidance did you find in those swaying hips, mmh?

Leliana let out a melodious laugh as Alistair glared at both of them. The young bard glanced at Alistair's hands and noticed he was thumbing a beautiful rose.

"What's with the flower, Alistair?"

The templar raised his eyes gloomily at the red-head and snapped, "I'm not telling you."

As these words, he caught sight of Elizabeth's figure coming back from the small river where she had gone to wash. She was wearing a long linen dress that flowed around her well-built figure. Her slender shoulders were covered by a thick woolen sweater and her damp hair was tightly put into a long dark braid, with only a few strands of hair falling out and framing her oval face. She walked swiftly, looking at the tall trees that surrounded them, dreamily.

Alistair's eyes lingered on her perfectness. But he was soon interrupted in his reverie by the laughs of Wynne and Leliana.

"I hate you both."

Standing up, Leliana leaned towards him and whispered in his ear before walking inside her tent, "Just be yourself. You know how to do that, don't you?"

Alistair slightly groaned. Standing up, he walked up to his fellow warden who had sat down near a thick tree to admire the moon through the leaves.

"Hey", she uttered.

The templar sat down beside her and answered, beaming, "Hey yourself."

A couple of seconds passed in silence, but the templar was used to it. He liked to think he had gotten past the need to always babble around her. The templar took a deep breath, and delicately presented the crimson and sparkling rose he had held on to for so long.

"Here, Look at this. Do you know what this is?"

The young girl glanced at the bloomed flower before lying back on the grass, her two arms behind her head, and raising her sight on the clouded night sky.

"It's a rose."

The templar smiled.

"I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?'. I probably should have left it alone but I couldn't, the darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it… So I've had it ever since!"

Elizabeth's eyes flickered from the rose Alistair held in his hand back to his face as he talked. He seemed melancholic, and yet, he still held that spark of hope in his eyes. It was something she had recently noticed : when she thought nothing could be done, he still believed in another way. A better way.

"Why are you telling me this?", she answered, raising herself back up, a confused and doubtful frown on her face.

"I thought that I might…", he paused for a second, gathering his thoughts, "give it to you, actually."

Elizabeth's frowned faintly transformed into a gentle look, a small knot forming in her stomach.

"…In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

The wardens eyes met. One holding a shy and loving look, the other a bewildered one.

"I… I…"

Elizabeth did not know what to say. However cold it may sound, she had never expected to find a friend in her fellow warden. They differed on so many levels and yet, there was something that drew the two together. What it was though, she still could not tell. He was a friend. Perhaps… Perhaps even more.

Alistair smiled, almost happy that for once she was the one struggling with words.

"It's just that…", he continued, "Here I am doing all this complaining, thrusting you to leadership, biding you to help me with family issues, even judging your decisions, when you haven't been having a good time of it yourself.", the warden shook his head sadly, "You've had none of the good experiences of being a Grey Warden-"

"-There are good experiences?", Elizabeth cut in with a sad smile, lowering her eyes to the grass.

"Well, yeah…", he sighed in incredulity, "It's all been death and fighting and tragedy…", the warden softly took Elizabeth's hand in his and delicately put the rose between her fingers, "I thought I could say you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this… Darkness."

Alistair's grasp had startled the young girl whose whole body had stiffened at his touch. But as soon as it had done so, it also had immediately softened at the gentleness of his hand. She raised her emerald eyes to meet the templar's. He kindly pushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. His deep look said it all, as her heart urged her to lean in. But her head swiftly took back control.

"Alistair, I… I can't accept this."

Pain flashed through his eyes.

"I'm not… All those things you said… I'm not.", she covered her face between her palms and sighed, before looking back at the templar, "Can't you see? I know I should not dwell on past mistakes. But all my decisions still haunt me. I killed a little boy because the darkspawn is the real threat, I think of nothing but avenging my family, I'm not…-"

"Elizabeth.", Alistair raised his hand to her chin and turned her face towards his. Her eyes were filled with self-hatred, "You saved the Circle."

"But I would have sided with the templars if it wasn't for Wynne."

Alistair smiled, "You revived the arl. Even today, you ended the curse peacefully, standing up for what was right!"

Elizabeth remained silent, lost in the warden's eyes.

"You don't give yourself enough credit. You're a good person, Elizabeth. I believe in you."

The young girl shook her head. Agreeing with his words would be lying to him, but also lying to herself. She knew where her heart lay. She knew who she was. Today, she had saved the hunters because the Blight needed the elves. She had killed Zathrian because he reminded her too much of herself.

And in a lot of ways, Alistair's inability to see this darkness inside her reassured her. But also pained her. The female warden brought the rose to her heart, a reminder of everything she used to be, and smiled at Alistair.

"Thank you, Alistair. I'm glad… I'm glad you are you."

"And I'm glad you are you, too".


	16. Manipulations

**A/N** : _Oh Orzammar, thou art a holy writer's blocker! Never the less, here is the lastest chapter of the adventures of Elizabeth & co. In hope that I won't lose the few subscribers I have. Reviews are welcomed, so I know if what I'm writing doesn't inspire complete hatred. _  
_I wish you all a happy Dragon Age 2 - And a happy reading :)_

_Thank you Tigress for beta-ing this chapter, I know it's hard to watch Elizabeth's actions at times. It certainly is for me._

_All belongs to Bioware. _

* * *

**16. Manipulations**

Alistair buried his face between the palms of his hands, as he sat on the rock-strewn stairs of the magnificent underground fortress of Orzammar. Of course they had come in the middle of a stalemate. Of course, this had to happen during a Blight. Of course, it was the warden's responsibility to reunite the dwarfs in order to benefit from their army.

The companions awaited their leader in front of Tapser's Tavern, the local inn of the Commons in the underground city. Elizabeth had wanted to explore the rocky citadel and talk to the people. They had spent the afternoon doing so, hearing dwarfs express their hatred, or devotion to either candidate to the throne. Dust Town had been especially excruciating and had exhausted Alistair, seeing in this political dance what awaited him at the Landsmeet. The thought made him shudder. Pushing it away, he raised his head and watched Elizabeth converse with a guard, from afar. She was nodding and seemed to listen with great interest. But his stream of thought was soon interrupted by two dwarfs, obviously intoxicated with ale, stumbling out of the tavern. As they wrestled themselves to the ground, he heard Zevran exclaim with hilarity, "Ha, drunken dwarves! What could be the harm in a few of those?".

The young warden stared gloomily at the Antivan elf. After leaving the assembly, the companions had been engaged by both Behlen and Harrowmont's seconds. The Crow's reaction towards lord Harrowmont's second had almost infuriated him, for it lacked respect and proper values. Something the assassin seemed of course, to lack. He wondered why it had even surprised him.

"_Behlen is hosting a Proving, supposedly to honor his father's memory. The deshyrs take it very seriously.", the dwarf that had approached them spoke solemnly, with poise, "And unfortunately, Behlen found some way to blackmail or intimidate House Harrowmont's best fighters into stepping down. "_

"_And this is to be your king?", the Antivan elf cut in, mocking gravity in his voice, "One who cannot keep his own men from running like frightened children?"_

But lingering back on the encounter, Alistair realized that his real shock had actually come from Elizabeth's reaction herself. She had laughed, _laughed_at Zevran's remark. Worse, she had agreed with him.

"_I will not support someone who's not strong enough to keep his own men loyal to him."_

Her words had been harsh, cold. Though Alistair could see the meaning in them for they held some truth, the templar could not shake off the feeling that Behlen was not a good man. From what they had heard around the city, he was a tyrant, thirsty for power, and who believed the ends always justified the means. And when Alistair had confronted Elizabeth about it, she had knocked him cold, right back to his place. Again. She held a power over him that forced him to trust her actions, to stand at attention, to follow. Perhaps that was what she meant when she said that Harrowmont did not have what it took to be a strong and bold leader. For the female warden certainly was, whatever she thought of herself.

He followed the graceful strides of this young girl who's dichotomy bewildered and attracted him at the same time. She was not a bad person, she held a sense of justice and honesty that was more than respectful. And yet, her fierce pragmatism unsettled him.  
Elizabeth was now listening contently to Leliana and Zevran bicker at each other a couple of feet away. Her composer appeared like a cold shield, but when you reached out to her you would discover there was some warmth inside this broken heart of hers. And maybe that was what was wrong : _some_ warmth. She was the sun and the moon, day and night. She was pulled in two opposite directions at once. And unfortunately, Orzammar seemed to bring out her darker side.

And yet, Alistair could not help but fall in love with her.  
What he did not know, was that he was not falling for her as a whole.

* * *

Elizabeth marched vigorously through the grand corridors of the Royal Palace, led by a frail female servant who was holding a flickering candle. It was right after dinner, and all her companions had retreated to the guest wing Prince Behlen had lent them for their time in Orzammar. The young girl had finished the last pages of a book about Dwarven Politics and its History, a thick manuscript she had been studying on their way to Orzammar. What she had discovered there had not pleased her, and she had demanded to see the Prince immediately.

The last of the Aeducan line sat at his study, a marvelous piece of furniture encrusted with the finest gemstones that could be found. Behind him stood a tall and blazing fire that was pleasantly warming the room. She entered without a knock, opening the door as loudly as she could and stomping in.

"Alright Behlen. No more games, no more waffling or doublespeak.", she exclaimed, slamming her thick book down, her two hands resting on the varnish desk.

She towered over the dwarf even more when he was sitting down, and she was hoping her dominance in height would intimidate the man before her. But Behlen was not frightened, and calmly crossing his arms over his chest he replied to her with a composed smile.

"Warden?"

Elizabeth straightened up and collected herself. Her dark eyes staring intently at the dwarf before her.

"You need a Paragon for your election to be legitimate before the Assembly."

The dwarf studied the warden, his smile widening, "It is not a necessity, but it is preferable, yes."

"So when were you planning to tell us you would send us down the death hole that are the Deep Roads, again I might add, to go fetch Branka?", the warden then took a step forward towards Behlen and menacing him with her eyes, she added, "Oh I know all about her, and how the system works. I happen to read, a lot. So here's what I'm going to tell you and listen closely, because I won't be saying it again : I don't like being toyed with, I don't like people going behind my back, I like it even less when it happens to be someone I'm helping obtain power."

The warden stopped and set a hand on her hip, using the other to point at the serene dwarf.

"You better come clean. It's not too late for me to go see your beloved rival."

The Prince raised his arms in the air, shaking his head, "You're impressive, warden. Not only did you grasp Orzammar's politics, but you are also remarkably sharp.", he crossed his hands, his two elbows set on his desk, "Tell me warden, what can you tell me of Paragon Branka?"

"Former smith and inventor, she disappeared in the Deep Roads taking her whole house with her approximately two years ago.", the young girl answered automatically, reciting her words matter-of-factly.

Prince Behlen nodded, "She is the only Paragon in four generations and she turned her back on her responsibilities…".

The dwarf went on about how having a Paragon's vote would secure his position as king. Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously, her hands clasped behind her back, standing at attention.

"Branka's been gone for years now. What makes you think she's alive? What makes you think she'll even support you?"

The dwarf gathered his thoughts and answered with assurance, "You said it yourself, she took her whole house with her. As for support, well… I was hoping you would use your legendary charm to persuade her that the rightful king should take the throne.", he then added, wickedness filling his voice, "However, if the Deep Roads have… addled her wits, it might be best she not return before the kingship is decided".

"Or not at all", the warden replied, crossing her arms.

"Well… If she wishes to remain in the Deep Roads, then we must assist her...By any means necessary".

The warden and Prince looked at each other, knowingly. Elizabeth finally spoke up, a faint impious smile on her lips.

"And when you will be king, what will happen of Harrowmont?"

The dwarf studied the warden carefully and simply replied after a moment, "He will be executed-".

"-So that no rebellion can be raised in his name.", Elizabeth finished for him, "Good."

The dwarf stared at the warden in awe, "I have to admit you are very surprising. I did not know female humans could be so… logical."

"Our world has no place for mercy. I simply do what must be done.", and raising one hand towards the dwarf she added, "Besides you're awfully good at what you do. As soon at the carta is wiped out, me and my companions will head to the Deep Roads."

And after a sturdy handshake, the dwarf gestured the young girl towards the door, "Now if that will be all…", but before she could cross the door she swiftly turned around, her eyes sparkling impishly.

"Actually… I might need your assistance for something."

.

.

.

As the young warden left the Prince's quarters, her mind couldn't help but wonder at what had been discussed inside his study. Branka had left everything, including her husband who now drowned himself in ale at the local tavern, but for what? And because her curiosity was stronger than her need to sleep, she rushed out of the Palace and took towards the Commons.  
It was late evening and yet, the huge hall was still lit the same as it had been the morning they had arrived. The convenience of not living under a sky. Elizabeth walked hastily through the Commons, a few dwarfs stopping to salute her. When she arrived in front of Tapster's Tavern, raising her eyes to the worn out sign set above the door, she felt a rousing rush of adrenaline in her stomach.

The Tavern was full, surprisingly full. But it didn't take long for Elizabeth to spot the man she was searching for. He was sitting at the far end of the place, alone, his face and red beard dipping in his huge pint of ale. A couple of empty mugs were scattered on his table.

"Oghren", she called out, sitting across from the drunk dwarf.

He groaned, "Oh not you again… I sodding told you I wouldn't tell you a damn sodding thing! Now get outta mah sight, asschabs…"

Elizabeth didn't flinch as she set her sturdy elbows down on the table, crossing her hands. Opting for a serious position, she spoke up.

"Alright little man, I'll make it quick. I don't want to take away any of your precious time from doing… Whatever it is you are doing. But most of all, I don't want to waste my own time", the girl leaned forward to meet Oghren's gaze, "Elizabeth Cousland, Grey Warden. The day after tomorrow I will be setting an expedition in the Deep Roads to seek Branka. _Your_ Branka."

The dwarf suddenly raised his face from his beer and listened attentively to the woman before him. Pleased to have his attention, the warden leaned back and crossed her arms over her silver breastplate.

"So here's the deal", she continued, "I let you come along, and in exchange you tell me why Branka left, what she's been up to, and why she has not come back."

Oghren stared at the warden, dumbfounded. But he ended up shaking his head and snapped, "I don't trust you Warden. For all I know you could be lying to me."

"You're right, it's something I would do", Elizabeth immediately replied, relaxed, "But you're just going to have to take my word for it. Besides, I could use another armed lunatic in my party."

"Go jump in the sodding lava and leave me the hell alone, warden"

Elizabeth glared at the stubborn dwarf. She was working hard not to pin her dagger against this idiot's throat.

"Very well. Remain here, drown in your alcohol, let everyone think you're a less than nothing. Stay here and wonder why Branka fled."

But the dwarf had decided to ignore her, or was too deep in his thoughts, so she stood up. Before heading out, she turned to the red-headed man.

"You'll find me at the Palace, when you're ready to talk."

But before she could take a step away from the table, Oghren raised his voice.

"The anvil of the void.", Elizabeth turned around, inquisitive yet satisfied that her plan had worked, "Branka was looking for the anvil of the void. The secret to building golems, which was lost centuries ago. The smith Caridin built it, and with it, Orzammar had a hundred years of peace…"

The warden narrowed her eyes and listened closely to every word the dwarf told her.

"As far as anyone knows, the anvil was built in the old Ortan Thaig. Branka planned to start looking there, if she could even find it. All she knew was that it was past Caridin's cross. No one's seen that Thaig for over 500 years."

"-And I will see you in two days Oghren", with a bow of her head, she turned around and walked out of the inn.

The warden's mind lingered on the idea of a Golem army. Running through the Commons, she finally made it to the shaperate. The place was filled with shelves and walls of books, parchments, manuscripts, and other knowledge that concerned the Dwarves History. The smell of old vellum filled the room, giving it a soothing and peaceful aura. A few candles were lit on the large wooden table that was positioned in the middle of the hall.

Elizabeth swiftly walked to the Shaper, who was putting away an old manuscript in a velvet box.

"Good evening Czibor, I need everything you have on Caridin and the anvil of the void."

* * *

A couple of Harrowmont's loyal supporters were walking in group through the Commons. They had been tipped by an anonymous note that the wardens would be dealing with Jarvia and her carta in Dust Town. Reluctantly they dragged themselves down to the duster filled area, with the only desire to make these Behlen supporting humans have a taste of their swords.

"I hate this part of town…", grumbled one of the dwarfs, "It's sickening and filthy", he added kicking a rock.

They positioned themselves behind one of the tall buildings in the area, where an ambush could be easily laid. And won.

"Spare a coin for a needy?"

A beggar had gone up to them. Dressed in mere rags, the frail and feeble female dwarf raised an open hand towards the guards. They looked down at her in disgust.

"Get off me, cunt!", the armed man violently pushed her away. And as she stumbled to the ground, the other guards' heavy laughs rang in the air, mixed with the beaten up woman's weeping. Circling the frightened female vagabond the dwarfs stared down at her, greedily.

"You know…", one of them said while grinning at his brothers in arms, "I think I could work out some stress while waiting for these wardens…"

But the woman's cries were muffled by a distant voice, aggressive and antagonistic.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

As the dwarfs turned around, they faced two tall humans. They both wore silver armor, one of them had a magnificent griffon across the chest. The symbol of the Grey Wardens.

"It's them! The blond warden! TO ARMS! TRAITORS!", and in a beat of a second, the five dwarves launched themselves, battle axes out, at Alistair.

.

.

Alistair's screams reverberated through the hall of the guest quarters of the Royal Palace, his pain potent in his piercing cries. He lay on the bed of his room, Wynne's healing hand glowing over his limp leg as Leliana was trying to force him to drink down another potion for his pain. A handful of servants were rushing around the wounded soldier, carrying a steel bucket with steaming water or clean towels and bandages.  
The warden could barely feel anything, besides the cringing pain that spread throughout his leg. When the dwarfs had attacked him all at once, he had been overwhelmed by their massive blades, and one of them had swung the plane surface of his axe against his knee. He had heard a large 'crack' and had fainted from the pain. He had then woken up in this bed.

"Alistair, you must stop wiggling in such a way!", he heard the old mage's calm yet severe voice say to him. Laying back in the thick cushions, he flinched, hurt in the lines of his face, as the mage finished bandaging his leg.

"You were lucky, warden", the dwarf herbalist told him, "Could have lost your leg altogether."

The templar remained silent as the servants and healers exited the room. Only Leliana remained by his side, worry bathing her face. She sat at his side and rested her hand upon his.

"Oh Alistair… I was so scared when I saw Elizabeth brought you back. I thought…", she shook her head lowering her eyes to her clenched hand, " And she seemed so unaffected! Alistair you should have seen her blank, impassive face. It's like she knew…-"

"-Where is she?", the templar had cut in the bard's anxious plight.

"I'm right here."

Alistair raised his eyes, as Leliana turned around in horror. How long had she been standing there at the door, listening to everything that was happening inside? The female warden gracefully took a few steps towards the bard and with an almost spiteful smile, dismissed her.

"Thank you, Leliana."

As the chantry sister hastily left the room without another look to Alistair or to her leader, Elizabeth took her place on her fellow warden's bed.

"How are you?", she asked with the usual lop sided smile she would greet him with. As she did so, she replaced an astray lock of the blond warden's hair in place. Her eyes lingered on every detail of his face. The templar shrugged.

"I've seen better days. But I should be good to go in a couple of days, thanks to Wynne!"

Elizabeth caring glance turned into a cold stare.

"I'm afraid not, Alistair."

He looked at her incredulously. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "What do you mean… What's going on here?"

"We're leaving for the Deep Roads. Tonight."

It took a few seconds for the warden to truly understand what Elizabeth had just said. And as the meaning kicked in, an angry frown shot through his face. But before he could say anything, the female warden continued.

"Behlen wants us to find Branka to secure his position as king. She's been missing for years, after leaving with her whole house to seek a legend, the anvil of the void, supposedly an artifact to create golems."

Alistair glared at his friend in fuming disbelief.

"And you seriously think I would let you go out on the Deep Roads by yourself? _Without me_?"

Elizabeth's eyes peered at him, "I would not have taken you even if you had your two working legs."

"I would have still come even if you forbid me"

"I know", her eyes were dark. Silent.

At these words the templar was silenced, unsure of what to think, yet again, of the violence of her words.

"There are only two wardens left in Ferelden.", Elizabeth continued, "And the Deep Roads is like a death sentence. If we were to both die down there, the lands would be lost. It is wiser for a Grey Warden to stay here."

"What about Orlais?", argued Alistair.

"It's been almost a year. You think they have not heard a word of what happened in Ostagar or about the upcoming Blight?"

The templar lowered his eyes to his casted leg. "You'll be short of a warrior down there", he uttered.

"Oghren is tagging along."

"That DRUNK?", Alistair exclaimed, now seriously getting pissed. Everything seemed convenient, too convenient to forbid him to join his companions.

"It's crawling with Darkspawn down there. Your senses are still-"

"My sense are fine", cut in Elizabeth, standing up and walking towards the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an expedition to prepare. I'll be back before we depart."

And in the blink of an eye, she swiftly disappeared. Alistair was confused, angry, hurt, and felt like a complete failure. He did not know why Elizabeth was acting so distant and official with him. She had been that way since they had entered Orzammar. Though he felt it too, that somewhere below their feet crawled hundreds of thousands of tainted creatures. Perhaps that was it and nothing else. Perhaps she felt confused about the token of affection he had given her a week ago. Perhaps he needed to be more clear.

.

.

"We could wait for a week, he will be back on his feet in no time."

Wynne's scolding tone irritated Elizabeth. She hated being told what to do, and the old mage seemed to do that more and more often, of late. They stood right outside of Alistair's room, so they kept their voices low.

"Thank you Wynne, you did what was asked of you, now please get ready for tonight's departure."

The female warden watched Wynne glare and reluctantly walk away to her room. Ever since the mage had asked Elizabeth about her 'blooming relationship' with Alistair, warning her that Love could not be equal with their duties, that one day a choice would have to be made, she had pushed everyone away from her. The mage was right, she hated to admit it, but in days where death was around every corner, she couldn't have herself get attached. Not anymore.

And yet. She couldn't help herself but fall in love with Alistair.  
What she didn't know was that only half her heart was.

* * *

The young female warden entered Alistair's room, a pile of books in her hands and deposited them near his bed.

"What's with all the knowledge filled vellum?", the templar asked.

"So you don't get too bored", replied Elizabeth with a smile, straightening herself back up.

The two wardens looked at each other. They both knew that this was goodbye, until they met again. If they met again.

"Well", Elizabeth started. But before she could continue Alistair grabbed her hand and gently brought her closer to him. Sitting down, the young warden felt like running away at once, and at the same time staying here at his side.

"Well?", he echoed raising a radiant eyebrow.

"Time to go", she uttered.

"Wait, Elizabeth", Alistair cried refusing to let her get up, "I wanted to ask you… That… All this time we've spent together, you know, the…", he smiled, the amusement coming back to his voice, "The tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us… Will you miss it, once it's over?", his eyes lowered to their clasped hands, "Do you think you'll always want to be a Grey Warden?"

Elizabeth stared coldly, sadness filling her eyes. She was guessing what he wanted to say. She wanted to say it too. And yet. She remained silent.

"WARDEN?", Sten's voice came from the hall.

Her companions were waiting for her. They needed to reach Caridin's Cross as soon as possible. Alistair glanced at her in sad confusion.

"CHICKENIN' OUT WARDEN?"

This time it had been Oghren. Duty called.

"No time for Goodbye, Alistair", she answered turning her attention back to the templar. After a second she added, "I know."

And before anything else could be said, she hastily walked out of the room.

Everyone was gathered in the large hall of the guest quarters. All wore their cleaned and oiled armor, clean mage robes, and polished weapons. Their travelling bags were filled with food, potions, herbs, and whatever else they might need down there. Elizabeth walked into the hall in her heavy set of silver armor, her large blade and dagger tightly set on her back. She watched her party setting their weapons on their own backs with pride. As she took a few steps through the hall, they raised their heads and silently nodded at her. They were ready.

Time to go.


	17. Without him

**A/N** : _This chapter is a huge bet. It's a bit shorter then the usual "main quest" chapters but eh, it's good the way it is! Anyways, I really tried to capture the horror and anguish that would have been the Deep Roads. Hopefully I did and I manage to make you shiver. A bit. :D I also added Leliana's tale "Alindra and her soldier" because I love love love it! _  
_On a side note - I wish you a happy DA2! I should be getting my copy by mail by tomorow. *crosses fingers* _

_Reviews are welcome!_

_Thank you Tigress for beta-ing. What would I do without you! *hug*_  
_All belongs to Bioware. _

* * *

**17. Without him**

"Elizabeth"

She can still hear his voice in her head, like clouds gathering before a storm. Far away. But present.  
Where the proud and strong edifices of the Dwarven empire once stood, now lie ruins tainted to the core. Black and foul shadows are masters here. If it were not for their magical fires they would be advancing in nothing but darkness.  
Step by step, shiver by shiver, they walk.  
The maps are unsettling, the labyrinth of the sinister roads brings them somewhere and then back to where they begun. But there could be worse fates than being lost. They all know it. The few bones they encounter says it for them.  
Step by step, shiver by shiver, they walk.

The caves are mute, the shattered fortress having been silenced years ago. There is no ray of sun to warm their skin, no plaintive wind through their hair. Just the sound of their own breath.  
Their hearts pound in their chests. She wonders if the others can hear it too.  
And step by step, shiver by shiver, she fears.

_"First day, they come and catch everyone."_

They meet a large group of dwarfs, and they fight alongside with them. There's something reassuring about this legion, for united they stand, divided they fall.  
But even with their combined strength, they cannot do anything but fall under the wave of incoming darkspawn. She sees the legion's leader being taken away. What was his name again? She can't remember.

Taken. Perhaps this is how they'll go. Under a sea of taint.

_"Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat."_

They are caged inside walls of putrefied flesh. The women and the men are separated.  
The dwarfs of the legion have all been taken away.  
They can see blood slowly forming a torrent on the ground. Crimson life escaping from the screaming men.

_"Third day__, the men are all gnawed on again."_

The dwarfs of the legion have all been taken away. The blood has dried on the shattered stones.  
Where are their males companions?  
They pray. They cry. They beg. Maker, Maker help us. Maker, save us.  
Prayer after prayer, tear after tear.

_"Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate."_

But they are alone in this infested hole.

_"Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn."_

They separate the warden from the other females and attach her to the ground away. Far away. She tries to struggle but they outnumber her.  
And the poem continues in her head.  
Where is that voice coming from?

_"Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams."_

They know her. They can feel the same darkness crawling inside of her. They're a bit like her, and she's a bit like them.  
Terrifying thought.  
They look and they touch. Afraid and curious. They take some of her blood and leave her to bleed to her death.  
But the warden is stronger than this. She won't let these words inside her head come true.  
She'll kill them. She'll kill them all.

They forgot to take away her small knife she wears at the back of her belt.  
She cuts her ropes. She cuts the darkspawn's throats.  
We are Couslands, she repeats herself.

_"Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew."_

She's alone in the maze of these ruins. She has no idea where they have taken her friends.  
Her friends. Or the closest thing she has of a friend.  
She meets the legion's leader. He lives. Or he's just a ghost.  
She slaughters her way through the mines. She destroys the darkness all around her. She kills. She hates.

Her thoughts dwell on him.  
Alone. Perhaps this is how she'll go. Without him.

_"Eighth day, we hated as she is violated."_

They imagine the worst. Hope for the best. What have they done to their leader?  
She is taint-free, but how long can she make it?  
They try to break from their cage, they try to escape.  
They pray. They beg. They curse and they dread.

_"Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin."_

Finally she finds them. It's not the first time she's ran alone in a daze to search for her companions.  
She hopes it's the last.  
Her friends look at her in fright. She is wounded, her own blood and the tainted creature's mixed as a second skin.  
The folly in her eyes betrays her horror. And yet, she stands.

_"Now she does feast, as she's become the beast."_

They escape, they flee. They need to leave this wretched place. And they kill. They bring down their retribution.  
Her thoughts return to the warden she left behind. She never realized how much he gave her strength to move forward. And forward she still goes. But. Driven by something else.

The voice is close, and yet, distant.  
The voice is in front of them, and yet, seems to be in another world.  
It leads them to a ghostly town.

_" And while she ate, she grew."_

Something is near.

" _She swelled and turned gray and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them."_

They listen to the mournful verses. They tell a dreadful truth.

" _Broodmother..."_

And then they see it. A mountain of tainted flesh, filled with previous lives. She is nothing but a pile of rotting contamination. Her eyes scream her hatred, her pain. Her cries shriek and make them tremble to the core.  
The warden freezes. Perhaps…

"Alistair", she thinks, "I'm so sorry, Alistair."

.

.

.

And they fight. They fight for what seems to be forever. It never ends. The darkspawn never end.  
The voice materializes before the exhausted warriors one more time.

"But the true abomination... is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed."

The female dwarf is dressed in worn out leathers. Her face has been taken over by remorse and self-hatred. By pain and treachery.

"Branka, my love..."

She takes from behind her back a large sword taken from the corpse of one of her kin. The blade shines in the darkness that surrounds them.

"The Stone has punished me, dream-friend."

She brings the cutting edge to her throat. Her eyes cry her hurt. She speaks in silent whispers. Broken tones.

"I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal."

And after a firm motion of her armed hand, she falls into the abyss.

* * *

"Elizabeth"

The warden's hands were clenched, covering most of her face. The flashing memories of the past days were so vivid in her mind that her throat was tight, her heart, palpitating. Her whole body was burning with a fever and yet, she handled herself with an unknown force.  
A familiar voice called out to her again.

"Elizabeth?"

Her haggard eyes fell on Leliana, who was handing towards her a bowl of stew and a piece of bread. She slowly reached out as the bard placed the food in her weak hands.

"Eat. If you don't eat, your injuries won't heal properly."

But the warden was barely hungry. She had only one thing going through her mind, getting out of the deep roads. Running out, up, up towards the sunlight. She had enough, enough of pitch black caves, enough of the piercing cries of the deep stalkers, enough of the deformed darkspawn. Even though she knew what was waiting for her above the ground, at least she would be breathing fresh air.

She reluctantly brought the piece of bread to her mouth and feebly took a bite out of it. As she slowly chewed, Wynne approached at her side with what seemed to be a mixture of herbs in her hand. Kneeling beside her, she softly took the warden's arm and started to tend to the wound she had gotten in their last fight. Elizabeth glanced at the worn out mage taking care of her. The circles under her eyes were probably as dark as hers, and yet, sometimes the warden couldn't help but think that the old mage was dying inch by inch. She returned her gaze to her bowl of stew she held in one hand. She felt guilty at what had happened. And at the same time, she felt somewhat glad Alistair was not there to witness the horror of the deep roads. Alistair. Her heart longed for his mere presence.

"Does it hurt, Elizabeth?"

The warden shook her head. She had remained mute ever since they had escaped from the darkspawn's hold. She blamed herself for not having lead her companions properly. But no one seemed to hold her responsible for it, they were even taking care of her.

"Do you want another piece of bread?

The warden recognized the voice of the Antivan elf who had approached her. Zevran sat by her side with a sly smile. Elizabeth let out a silent sigh as she lay back on her bedroll. Glancing at each other, the warden nodded at him as he offered another piece of bread. She was hungry after all.  
Elizabeth then suddenly raised her eyes towards Leliana who was silently eating her own bowl of stew beside her.

"Lel, will you tell me about Alindra and her soldier again?"

The bard smiled, pleased to see their leader still had the power of speech, and pleased to be asked to recount a story that warmed her heart. And as the warden closed her eyes, she listened to Leliana's melodious voice.

"_A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden called Alindra. She had many suitors, but spurned them all, for she did not love them._

_One day Alindra was sitting by her window in her father's castle, singing and dreaming when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier. Entranced by her song, the young soldier drew near to Alindra's window. As their eyes met, he fell in love with her, and she with him._

_When Alindra told her father about the man she had chosen, he was furious, for Alindra was high-born, but her love nothing more than a common-soldier. To keep them apart he had Alindra imprisoned in the highest tower of his castle and sent her soldier to the wars._

_Alas, not a month had passed before news of the soldier's death reached Alindra. Alone in her tower, Alindra wept for her love and beseeched the gods to deliver her from this cruel world. So earnest was her plea that the gods themselves were moved. They gathered Alindra into their arms and lifted her high into the heavens, where she became a star._

_The gods also raised up the soul of Alindra's soldier love and there he dwells, across the horizon from her. The band of stars between them is a river of Alindra's tears, cried for her lost love. They say that when Alindra has cried enough, she will be able to cross the river to be reunited with her soldier."_

While the bard finished her tale, Elizabeth's breathing had become slow and steady, a faint smile on her face.

"Puah", exclaimed Zevran, "This is much too sappy for me."

"I like it", responded the young warden in a whisper**.** "It makes me hopeful." Raising her sparkling eyes towards Leliana she added, "I remember when my brother told me about it for the first time when we used to go out at night stargazing."

Elizabeth also remembered watching these very constellations the very first time she had a heart-to heart with Alistair. Thinking dearly of her far away friend, she rolled on her side while closing her eyes.

"I miss him", she muttered to herself.

* * *

"Elizabeth?"

Everyone was waiting for an answer. The warden acknowledged the battle that would most likely break out in a matter of seconds. Her eyes swiftly danced from golem to golem, counting the potential opponents. Glancing back at Branka, her eyes flickered to something the dwarf held tightly in her hand. A control rod. Elizabeth returned her stare to Caridin's mass of steel. Good, more allies.  
Putting one hand on one of the swords set on her back, she turned her head to her companions who were standing behind her and whispered loudly enough so only they could hear.

"I have no idea how a golem dies, but hit it until it crumbles to the ground."

Wynne turned a shocked gaze towards the warden.

"You're not seriously thinking of keeping the anvil? No! Think of the consequences! Have you not listened to a word Caridin said?"

Edgily, the warden stepped towards the old mage, her face inches away from hers. Ever since she had joined the warden, the circle mage had spent her time questioning her duties, her intentions, maybe even her intelligence. And because the warden had seen in her at first a compensation for her lost family, she had listened. But not now. Not anymore. Perhaps it was the Deep Roads' enclosure, perhaps she was losing her mind. But she had had enough of this preachy hypocrite.

"You will not stand in my way, Wynne. Not again. So you can either stay with me and remain silent, or run for your life."

Without even awaiting for her reply, she turned back to the steel golem.

"I'm sorry, Caridin. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. The anvil is too powerful to be destroyed."

And in a fit of anger and despair, the paragon of steel attacked them.

.

.

.

The last of the golem was still standing, pounding his stone fists against the shaking ground to prevent them from approaching him. The warden and her companions had managed to push most of the golems over the edge of the raised area on which they were fighting, into the deep below lava. Caridin still stood, helplessly fighting for his beliefs. For what was right.  
Branka was first in line against him, swinging her heavy mace against the animated mountain of metal. She wavered her weapon with an incredible speed and strength, so much so that the other warriors fighting alongside could barely approach her. And as the rogue dwarf gave the final blow to the aching golem, Elizabeth lowered her weapons and watched the paragon collapse on the ground.  
Home. She could finally go home.

She watched Branka in her continuing fit of madness, kneel in awe before the anvil.  
She watched Wynne and Leliana shaking their heads, their faces pained and stern, as the female paragon forged her a crown for the next king.  
She watched Oghren being treated like less than nothing. Again.

Slowly, she walked over to the edge of the stone, where she had managed to push the assaulting golems. Staring into the bubbling magma and molten rocks, she thought about all the months that had passed by. And as she put back a strand of hair that had escaped her long braid, she came to a realization.  
She realized that the person at Ostagar and the person that was standing here were miles apart. That months ago she would have never made the decision she had made today. She realized what a fool she had been to push Alistair away all this time. She wasn't sure if she even approved of what she had become.  
The warden grabbed her knife, a discreet weapon that had saved her life many times here. With the other hand, she grabbed the gathered hair at the base of her head, and with a stiff movement cut out of the braid. Her hair fell chaotically around her perfectly oval face, forming a messy bob. Elizabeth glanced at the long braid she held in her hand and for a long moment, she just stared at it.

And finally, she threw the long tress in the air below her and watched it fall until it disappeared in the burning lava.

"You made the right decision, Kadan."

The tall Qunari had sneaked up behind her. She often wondered how such a gigantic man could hold such stealth. Or maybe she had been too far deep inside her thoughts to notice him.

"You talking about my hair, Sten?", she answered turning around with a distinct grin, "Or the anvil?"

"Parshaara! I could not care less about your-"

"I know, I know", the warden bowed her head in respect, "Thank you, Sten. But come, let's get out of here".

She then added with a smirk, "We have a Blight to fight."


	18. Caution to the wind

**A/N** : _Hello everyone! First of all sorry for the late(ish) update, I've been grabbed by the storm of DA2, brainstorming for my own book, and writers-block for this chapter! I have to say I had a hard time writing this one because it really felt like I was invading my character's privacy. But maybe that's just me being a weird writer._  
_Anyhoo, hope you like this chapter, I found myself incapable of writing a good love scene, so that's all I managed. Reviews are always enjoyed, specially if you have advice on HOW TO WRITE A GOOD LOVE SCENE!_

_Thanks again to Tigress for beta-ing, and also special thanks to **Ygrain33** and **Raven Jadewolfe** who always review my chapters. It is GREATLY appreciated!_

_All belongs to Bioware._

* * *

**18. Caution to the wind**

The assembly chamber was a growing cacophony of shouts and foul language. It wasn't enough that the noble deshyrs were throwing insults straight from Dust Town at each other, but it seemed they were also almost about to throw their maces into each other's faces, as well.

Alistair shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, wondering what in the Maker's name he was doing here. When his companions had left for the Deep Roads, he had spent the first weeks in his bed, moping and cursing fate for his broken leg. It had mended rather quickly, which had surprised even himself. And in less than two weeks after the departure of the warden and her party, he was up and walking around Orzammar. At that time, he had considered leaving the city to go seek his companions in the Deep Roads, but it had seemed the whole world was against it. Or Elizabeth was far more manipulative then he had thought.

"_I'm sorry Warden, you are not allowed to pass. Strict orders". _The main guard who secured the entrance to the Deep Roads had been firm about it. His men were gripping their weapons tightly, as if half expecting the warden to try something stupid like run to the tunnels. He had considered it.

"_What do you mean 'strict orders'?",_ he had spat, annoyed out of his mind, _"Strict orders from WHO?"_. It hadn't taken him long to figure out who was behind all of this. And on top of grounding him to stay in this city alone, Elizabeth had managed to convince Behlen to take him along to every assembly meeting, every political brawl, and every eternally long dinner. Politics really was not his thing, and he hated, HATED the idea that he might become King. Behlen on the contrary was more than pleased to have a Warden by his side, for the dwarf prince probably thought it gave him some sort of legitimacy and an imposing bearing.

"The warden's been gone for weeks now! By the Stone, she's most likely DEAD!"

These words made him snap. Alistair cursed under his breath and hissed at the lord's words. Redirecting his attention to the session that was taking place in the chamber, he realized that even with his 5 minutes of inattention the nobles had still not settled down.

"Everyone knows Prince Behlen has the support of the Wardens!", cried a lord, "Isn't that enough to persuade all of you that he is the rightful successor?"

"Will my boot inside your throat persuade you that you are full of nug shit?", roared another.

The lords of the assembly hissed and barked at the insult. Some stood from their seats, raising their arms and pointing blaming fingers, some accused others of treachery and cheating, while others grabbed their weapons, ready to charge whoever indicted them. "Nope", Alistair thought, "Politics is really not for me."

"Enough. ENOUGH!", the Assembly Steward Bandelor demanded with force, "I have had enough of your childish stances!". Silence filled the room. "Lords of the Assembly", he continued, "I call for order! This argument gets us nowhere, and so it ends now!" But soon everyone snapped back into infuriation and screamed out their frustration, once again.

From the corner of his eye Alistair the heavy doors of the chamber open swiftly, as an armored guard lead two shapes inside the hall. One short, one tall. The warden immediately recognized Oghren's red hair, even with the poor lighting of the chamber. But the human figure beside him…

She was wearing a dark armor, one he had never seen before. He recognized the dwarven crafting of the breastplate, dark brown, almost black. The two warriors were both splattered with dry blood, and Alistair could see their exhaustion by the way they carried themselves.  
Alistair suddenly realized that the woman that had made her way into the middle of the Assembly chamber was Elizabeth. But her hair was short, really short, knotted and untidy, almost reflecting the chaos showing through the stern look in her eyes. This was his fellow warden, but she had changed. Something was different, he could tell by just looking at her.

"Lords of the Assembly!", her voice was powered by determination and strength. Her tone did not quiver or tremble, it was resolved, leaving out every bit of the fatigue that seemed to slowly takeover her body. "Paragon Branka is alive". A wave of wheezes and murmurs beckoned throughout the chamber. "I bare a crown forged by her, for her chosen king."

The female warden gestured towards the large circlet Oghren bore in his two hands. He stepped towards the Assembly Steward and handed him over the shining top. "The anvil of the void has also been recovered, and hopefully the next king will put it to good use". At these last words, Elizabeth discreetly nodded towards Behlen. Her eyes quickly passed over Alistair.

A victorious smile spread on the prince's face, as the templar stared dreadfully from him to the female warden. Something wasn't right. He had read about the Anvil, but most of what he had read did not give more details other than that the artifact gave life to a pile of stones. Which sounded like blood magic. No one nor any thing could create life. Elizabeth would not have… And yet, even he had a hard time convincing himself that she wouldn't allow such a dangerous relic to be saved.

"Then tell us Warden, who did Branka chose?"

Elizabeth raised her chin and straightened herself in all her height, clasping her hands behind her back. "Behlen. Paragon Branka chose Prince Behlen as Orzammar's next king."

And that was that. Behlen was crowned, and Lord Harrowmont was called to be executed. Alistair had been stuck in the Assembly benches, unable to reach to Elizabeth. He had tried to catch her attention, but the female warden stood in the chamber like a statue, staring straight in front of her, almost seeming like she was keeping an eye on something invisible. She seemed to be in another place.  
Elizabeth did not move a finger when Behlen announced his cruel decision to get rid of the opposition. She did not blink when lord Harrowmont was violently dragged out by guards to be thrown into a jail. All she asked was for her troops against the Blight. _Her_ troops.

Finally, Alistair managed to escape the benches and rapidly increasing his pace, he tried to catch up to the warden who had already left of the chamber. But he was stopped by Leliana.

"She kept the anvil!", her voice was hysterical, her eyes wide with horror and tears. They obviously had just arrived from the Deep Roads for Leliana herself was covered in filth and blood. "It traps the soul of a living thing to create a stone golem! And she kept it!"

Alistair paused and frowned at the frenzied and panic-stricken bard. Glancing at Wynne who stood by her side, he noticed the horror in the mage's eyes too. The templar could barely understand. Or believe. "WHAT?"

But before they could continue the conversation, a scream came from outside the Assembly. A bald and tattooed dwarf rushed through the doors and gestured to them.

"SOMEONE COME! THE WARDEN! SHE'S COLLAPSED!"

And in a frightened daze, Alistair ran outside.

* * *

When Elizabeth woke, she lay in a warm bed in what seemed to be her room of the guest quarters of Orzammar. The warden could barely remember a thing after exiting the Deep Roads and she wondered for a second if this was all a dream. Looking under the covers at herself, she realized she had been thoroughly cleaned and that her injuries were neatly bandaged.

"Ah, you are finally awake!"

Morrigan gracefully stepped towards the side of the bed with a pleased smile on her lips as Elizabeth slowly sat up, rushing her two hands over her face.

"This is familiar…", the warden mumbled, rubbing her eyes, " Is this the part where you tell me the King is dead alongside of all his army?"

The witch studied her for a second, eyebrow raised, before answering, "You really have a strange sense of humor, my warden friend."

"Yeah, well", sneered the warden as she took the covers off and stood from the bed, "You never kn- AH!"

As Elizabeth staggered on her feet, a striking pain took over her left ankle, causing her to stumble. Morrigan caught her by the arm and steadied her.

"You ankle is broken. I have no idea how you managed to get out of the Deep Roads without realizing so, but nevertheless you can barely walk."

"Well that's just perfect", complained Elizabeth.

Morrigan forced her to sit down on her bed. But the warden was restless and kept shifting around.

"What happened? How long have I been out?", she inquired, as the witch grabbed a long wooden walking stick from the corner of her room, "I'm so not using that", the warden then pointed out.

"You fainted outside the assembly chamber two days ago, and yes, you are."

Elizabeth gasped as she heard the number. She had been sleeping for two days. But the worst part was that she could barely make out what had happened. Her head only gave her faint and fleeting memories.

"Alistair has been quite the whiny fool about it, actually…", Morrigan continued, mockingly. But before the witch could finish her sentence Elizabeth grabbed the piece of wood from her hands and ran, as best she could, out of her room.

"Alistair", she thought, a growing smile on her face, "Alistair".

But she was instantly stopped by the massive structure of a Qunari.

"Kadan."

"Top of the morning to you, Sten!", she replied with a grin raising her head up to meet his eyes.

"You are up. Good. We can leave immediately", his voice was stern, official, just like all the times he rarely spoke. But he glanced at the cane the warden held in her hands and at her bandaged foot and asserted, "But you can't walk. How are you going to journey the lands?"

"I was hoping you'd carry me on your back, Sten", Elizabeth jested as she hastily stepped away from the Qunari and resumed her way to Alistair's room, "We'll leave tomorrow!", she cried from behind her back as Sten pestered against her, "Sunrise!"

When Elizabeth finally arrived before the door of her friend's room, her ankle was already giving her a lot of pain. Hoping Wynne would be able to do something about it later, she rushed inside the small bedroom.  
Alistair was sitting at the small desk, and the female warden recognized the books she had given him the first day piled up there, with notes and burning candles set upon them. Hearing her enter, the templar turned around.

"Elizabeth", he softly muttered. But the emotion in his voice rapidly disappeared. "You look good. I'm glad you feel better". He turned around and resumed his reading. These last words had been spoken with a certain distance. This stern tone was unusual.

The female warden stared at her friend's back. She knew why she had rushed to his room, but the severe look in his eyes had made her almost forget why she had bothered coming here in the first place. "That's it?", she inquired, a tint of sarcasm in her voice. She painfully skipped to the end of the templar's bed, sitting down on the silk sheets. Her ankle was too sore for her to remain standing. She looked back to the warden sitting at the wooden desk, his eyes fixed on a parchment. "Alistair?", she posed.

"You…", he turned around, and his face was filled with a mixture of feeling that Elizabeth barely deciphered. Fear? Disbelief?  
… Love?  
"Leliana told me everything that happened down there."

Elizabeth scoffed, "Of course she did, that girl I swear is overly dramatic-"

"-YOU COULD HAVE DIED". His sudden roar startled Elizabeth. She had not expected him to react this way. "The darkspawn, they could have done so much WORSE to you! Can you believe how LUCKY you were? CAN YOU?". Alistair stood from his chair and stepped towards the woman who's eyes were stuck on her feet. "What if neither of you had come back? AND THEN WHAT? I would have STAYED HERE LIKE AN IDIOT, NOT KNOWING?". The templar needed to get out his anger, to vent, for he had spent too many weeks, months even, worrying he'd never see the face of the warden in front of her ever again.

"And the anvil… The anvil, Elizabeth. What were you THINKING?"

The female warden's back stiffened as a frown grew on her face. "I was thinking about the Blight", she answered defensively, "Thinking about our survival."

The templar scoffed, "Now you're sounding like Morrigan."

"Morrigan may seem like a bitch to you but she makes some perfectly valid points."

Silence grew between the two wardens, as well as an uncomfortable distance. Alistair had taken a few steps away from Elizabeth and his back was now facing her, one hand against the wall of the room. The templar was the one to break the silence.

"You had no right to leave me here."

But Elizabeth had had enough of his accusations. She had spent the last weeks fighting for her life, fighting for something she thought would help them all, fighting against her need to let everything go and run back to this man. Because against all odds, against their arguments and differences, she had finally realized while being separated from him that she couldn't, in fact, function properly without him.

"Alistair, can't you see?", her exclamation held a mixture of fear, disbelief. Love. She managed to get herself up on her feet and limped as well as she could towards the templar.

"Everything I did here, I did it for you. I did it because there are only two wardens left, and it's written in every stupid book about the order that only a Grey Warden can kill the archdemon, even if we don't know why or how. I did it because I don't want you to die. I did it because… Damn it Alistair, Maker help me, Can't you SEE?"

The knight turned around, his eyebrow raised slightly, a frowning look of knowing confusion.

"I'm in love with you". Elizabeth uttered the words in such a way that it seemed even she had a hard time believing them, "I've been in love with you for… Ever".

She closed the distance between them, locking her eyes into his. And before she could speak another word, her lips were crushed by Alistair's who had pinned her against the wall. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her as her body grew with desire, while his own hands travelled around her waist and down her back. Clutching their groin together, Alistair's lips were hungry against hers, as she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. Their kiss held all of their restrained desire of each other, all of their reserved feelings, everything they had tried to set aside.  
As Elizabeth slid a hand under Alistair's shirt, he broke the kiss. Holding each other, as their heavy breathes echoed in each other's ears, he managed to gather his thoughts.

"Elizabeth…", he murmured as she slowly kissed down his neck, "Elizabeth, please". He tried to break from her embrace when he felt her hand slide down his belt. Maker, this woman was driving him insane.

"What?", the young girl's heartbeat was fast, and an odd tingling sensation was forming in her stomach. She didn't know much, but she knew one thing. Him. She just wanted him. And yet, she realized she alone was holding on to him. He had let go of her.

"…Oh."

She had rushed it. Perhaps her feelings were not shared, perhaps she had been wrong the whole time. Perhaps he didn't want her like she wanted him.  
She looked down to the ground and took a step on the side, away from Alistair. She needed to sit, and not because of her ankle. But before she could make another move the templar took her hand and pulled her in his arms. He brushed one hand against her messy hair.

"I love you", he whispered in her ear, "I love you and every time I'm around you my head's about to explode which makes it even harder to tell you this". He was pleased to hear her familiar and soft laugh as he pronounced these words. He then added, "Being near you makes me crazy. And I can't imagine being without you. Not… Ever. I never thought you… we… I've never done this before and-"

"Me neither"

The two wardens looked at each other as Elizabeth gently smiled at him, "Me neither" she continued, leading him to the end of the bed where she sat down.

"Oh. It's just. I mean I wanted it to be with someone special so… And It's just that we sort of stumbled into each other and despite being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you in between all the fighting and everything else…"

Elizabeth shook her head with a smirk. They were both flushed and embarrassed, words seeming unable to capture how they really felt. But as they looked into each other's eyes, they realized that words were not a necessity.

"You know…", the woman said, breaking the silence, "I never answered your question about whether I'd miss being a Grey Warden? If you and I would always be wardens?". Alistair turned his head towards Elizabeth, curious. "You will. You have this amazing ability to find joy amidst all the death and the fighting. You always manage, believe, and fight for what is right to you".

She smiled sadly, "But as for me… The Circle, Connor, the werewolves and now the Deep Roads… They are fleeting victories. The satisfaction disappears as fast as it arrived". Looking up at Alistair, her green eyes glistened lightly.  
"See, the things that sticks with me is the anguish, the pain, all this darkness that taunts the hearts of the people of this land. I hold on to that forever". The templar reached out to a strand of her brown hair that was falling in her face and replaced it gently.  
"So… You want to know if I'll always be a Grey Warden? I have to say… I don't know. I am now. I will be tomorrow. But if I'm ever lucky to get married, to have some kids, to maybe… Not be needed by the order anymore, I think I'd walk out and never look back. Hopefully with you."

Softly taking her chin and giving a light kiss on her heart-shaped lips, Alistair lay her down on the soft bed.

"I want it to be with you", he whispered, " While we have the chance"

And so the two wardens threw caution to the wind and gave in to the desire of their hearts, their bodies, and their souls.


	19. Animal

**A/N**_ : Sorry for the late update, writer's block once again. But also wouldn't let me freakin' update! This chapter really did not inspire me, but I did the best I could! I'm also completely taken by DA2 and a certain blond mage. What can you do!_  
_Hope you enjoy this chapter, reviews are always appreciated._

_Thank you Tigress for your great beta work, 'tis close to the end and I don't know what I would have done without you! (probably more grammar mistakes... Hah)_

_All belongs to Bioware. _

* * *

**19. Animal**

The suffocating heat of the approaching storm overpowered the city of Denerim, and the humid air was so damp you could barely breathe. There was something about these early spring rainstorms that held all of winter's solitude, and melancholia. Or so Alistair thought.

The young templar watched the menacing grey clouds that were gathering around the far away hills from the grand window of his room. His thoughts lingered on how beautiful the capital was in such a sunset, the orange rays warmly bathing the ramparts and little houses. But the forthcoming clouds would take over the city before long, and rain would fall down on her soon enough.

Sighing, Alistair tried to let go of the tension in his body, and to focus his mind on pleasant thoughts. A trick he had learned while training as a templar when they were asked to channel their energy and keep their feelings in check to launch a spell. A quiet and peaceful mind was always required. But even with all his efforts, he could hardly keep his heart from clenching and his thoughts from chaotically rushing to his fellow warden.

She had left him behind. Once again. This habit of hers really infuriated him. And yet he understood why she had done so in the first place. Politically speaking, he was not in the best position to go around Denerim, break into an estate, and free their enemy's daughter.

Loghain… He would have let his anger towards the man roam, if his worry of Elizabeth being alone in Howe's estate had not surpassed it.

He feared of what she might do, especially since witnessing her reaction after seeing him.

.

.

.

.

_"__Well, look here! Bryce Cousland's little spit fire! All grown up and still playing the man…"_

She had always felt it deep within. And as much as she had tried to flee her tempering wrath, she had never managed to escape this torment. Her torment.

When they had arrived in Denerim, she had shut everyone out. Even Alistair. After sighting the murderer of her family, she had let free of every bit of anger she had been clinging to. Her retributive instinct had broken out in turmoil, and her companions had needed to settle her down. She couldn't care less about Politics, about the Landsmeet, or even about Loghain right this moment. There was Howe, only Howe, and nothing else really mattered.  
"Pull yourself together, Warden, this is not the time."  
But when they had secretly invaded the arl's estate to free the queen, Maker forbid, she had sought him, and only him.

She had always felt it deep within. The fury inside of her. The torment. It whispered in her ear like a tempting demon.  
And now that he lay helpless on the ground before her, she could not escape herself.

_"__I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here… But then… I never thought you'd live either…"_

She had resisted the urge to strike him down in one blow. Instead, she had knocked him out and had dealt with the guards and mages that surrounded him. Her companions had helped too. But she barely perceived them.  
And when finally all that was left was the unconscious arl, she had sent everyone out.

"Go fetch the Queen. I'll catch up."

Morrigan and Zevran had nodded and instantly left the dungeon. Leliana on the other hand had refused to leave her side. Elizabeth presumed she had promised Alistair to do so, but the bard knew better then to defy to her leader.

"I said, go."

Her voice was cold, tranquil, like the calm before the storm. Leliana took a few steps away, looking doubtfully at the armored back of the young girl. There was always something in her green eyes that foretold her actions. It was a look she had worn after Connor's execution, or after sparing the anvil of the void. It had lingered briefly before the urn of Sacred Ashes, or so Zevran had told her.  
The bard did not know Elizabeth well, the warden had never wanted to be friends with her. And yet, there was something in the way she looked at things sometimes, that reminded her of a past friend she had known a long time ago.

"Elizabeth, come, You sh…", Leliana started.

"NOW."

As her scream echoed through the dungeon, Elizabeth glanced back in anger at the persistent woman behind her. How dare she contradict her direct orders?  
And as Leliana recognized the madness in her eyes, she fled the stoned room.

_"__Your parents died on their knees. Your brother's corpse rots in Ostagar. And his brat was burned on a scrap heap along with his Antivan whore of a wife."_

Elizabeth had knocked him out pretty hard with the hilt of her sword against his temple, for it was still bleeding. Not that the warden cared. She grabbed the unconscious arl by the collar of his armor, and dragging him along the floor, she forced him in a sitting position.

Slowly, she pulled out the ropes she had brought out of her pack.  
Slowly, she tied his hands behind his back and tied his feet together, immobilizing him.

Forcing a Health Poultice down Howe's throat, the warden awaited for him to come back to his senses. And as he opened his fluttering eyes, she slowly tied four tourniquets.

One for each limb.

_"__What's left? A fool husk of a daughter likely to end her days under a rock in the deep roads… "_

She sat in the pool of his blood, staring straight into his eyes, perhaps seeking out some kind of reason or truth. But only life was flickering out of them, bit by bit.  
She was tempted to show him his heart, to prove him how he was more tainted then any warden or darkspawn would ever be.  
But maybe his starving mabaris in the other room would have a pleasure of taking care of that for her.

The arl tried to scream, but his cry was soon muffled by the sharp edge of the warden's knife against his tongue.  
She dared him to speak again.  
Dared him to make one sound.

And because he did, she silenced his voice with one sharp sway of her blade.

_"__Even the wardens are gone. You're the last of NOTHING."_

Sitting in the crimson river that streamed down the stones, she watched it cascade down his mouth and limbs. He had become nothing but an aching corpse. But a breathing one still. His pain was like a soothing song to her ear.

She stared. She stared straight into his eyes.  
Even with her knife deep in his thigh.  
Even when she watched him take his last breathes.

_"__Maker SPIT on you!"_

She stared, a victorious smile on her crooked impish lips.  
Even when his hounds licked his own blood off of him.

_"__I deserved MORE."_

Even when a pack of guards hurried to her side and dragged her out of the red pond she was sitting in.  
Even when she dropped her knife as they ordered her to stand down.

She gave in, without a fight.  
Staring, and smiling.

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.

.

Alistair opened the window of his room in hope that a draught would cool down the oven that had become his bedroom. He had managed to escape Eamon's grasp and constant ranting about the upcoming Landsmeet and about his duty to go on the throne. But the young man did not want to be King. Perhaps it was because he did not feel competent or lacked confidence, perhaps it was because he wanted to remain a Grey Warden for it was who he was to the core. Or perhaps, perhaps it was because of Elizabeth too. Being King would mean being away from her. And yet, if his fate was to seize power…

"Warden". The templar instantly recognized Zevran's heavy accent and abruptly turned around to see him standing at his door, next to a hysterical and panicked Eamon.

"Zevran, you're back!", he managed to answer, "Where is everyone? What happened?", he glanced back and forth to the two men, mortified. Taking a step towards the bloody elf, he exclaimed, "Where is she?"

* * *

Elizabeth's eyes flung open as she woke to acknowledge the uncomfortable cold hard ground beneath her bare skin. Taking in her surroundings, she slowly realized that she was lying in a cell, most likely underground. There were no windows in the walls of the vast hall her cell was in, and the few candles fixed on the fortifications barely gave any light. Her small enclosed room gave enough space for her to pace, but the bars of her cage were tight and didn't allow her to pass through an arm, or a hand.

It all came back to her now. She had been dragged from the Howe's estate. Cuffed and hauled in here like an animal. So much so that her body had shut down.

Sitting up, she suddenly realized an old man was standing in the cell next to her, staring at her face with great interest and anxious curiosity. His long grey dirty hair fell in clumps on his scrawny shoulders. His cheeks were hollow, and he was missing a couple of teeth. He must have been imprisoned for a while now, for it seemed like the poor man had barely eaten in weeks. And yet, as feeble as he seemed, he appeared to be armed with the strongest of willpower.  
Pressing her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around her bare legs, Elizabeth glanced up at the elder as he spoke up to her, his eyes lightly glistening.

"I see the Warden Butcher has finally come back to her senses." His voice was malicious, but the soft growl at the back of his throat, weak and tired. Elizabeth's eyes widened at his words.

"What did you call me?". The man laughed, resting his arms against the bars that separated their two cells.

"I'm not calling you nothing…", he gestured at the two guards that were pacing up and down the alley, "They are". He then lowered his voice and whispered to her, sarcastically, "You'd be surprised at how grown men can gossip like ladies at court".

Elizabeth studied his face for a second as she took in the meaning of these words. Glancing at the guards, she realized they were looking at her in a mix of fear and disgust.  
Butcher. The word stung, much to her surprise. And yet.  
The warden braced herself up and took a few wobbling steps towards the door of her cell. Brushing one hand against what seemed to be a complicated lock, the man immediately commented on her action.

"Planning to break out? I wouldn't count on it too much…". The female warden turned around and walked back to the corner she had been sitting in, defeated, worn out. At another time she would not have waited a minute longer in this dark cage. But today was different.

"Someone will come", she answered with a sigh, "Someone has to come". The old man sat down and rested his back against the wall of his own cage, next to Elizabeth's.

"Sure thing, kid. But that's just wishful thinking if you ask me."

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.

Silence filled the hall, the both of them did not speak a word. The only sound that could be heard were the two men that guarded the large door of the room who were quietly chattering, and the distant drops coming from a water leak.

"So what's your story?", the old man next to her inquired, breaking the calm of the jail. Elizabeth's eyes were closed and her head was resting back against the stone wall behind her.

"I thought you already knew everything", she answered plainly, keeping her eyes shut.

"Well, I only heard what the two gossips over there said", retorted the man throwing one arm in the air, "All I know is you slaughtered the arl of Denerim, which if you ask me if more of a public service then anything, and that you're a Grey Warden". The man shrugged, "The man must have pissed you off pretty bad…"

Elizabeth's lips remained sealed. She was not in the mood to talk about what she had done. And certainly not with some stranger who was imprisoned with her. But the man did not seem to mind her persistent stillness and carried on with his declamation.

"Well you don't 'ave to answer me, you can just listen too, that's fine", he jabbered on, "Been 'ere a long time, first soul to grant me attention. It gets a bit lonely down here, y'know?".

The female warden could only imagine. She would have hated being locked in here by herself, hopelessly waiting for someone to come get her, _if_ someone came to get her.

"Revenge is bittersweet, isn't it?"

Elizabeth's mind paused at these last words and opening her eyes, she turned her gaze to the tired-looking man who suddenly appeared weary, perhaps even sad.

"Not so sure about the sweet part…", she finally uttered, tearing her eyes from the man and starting a glaring contest with the door of her cell. The man didn't answer right away, as if lost in what his mind had suddenly brought back to him.

"How did you feel?", he murmured after gathering his thoughts, "How did you feel after?"

Elizabeth did not dare look at the man's face. His question was unsettling, for the answer she was about to give him was unsettling. Her actions had not been restorative. There had been no justice. No boundaries. No brought-back harmony. A fleeting victory she had once told Alistair.  
Nothing. Her actions had brought nothing.

"Nothing", she echoed her own thoughts, "I felt nothing, for nothing changed". The warden stared straight at the door, her cold voice speaking in fragmented whispers. As she spoke, reality slowly dawned on her. Everything she had done so far had been a means to an end. Survival. Destroying threats.

"Whatever you will do, whatever retribution you bring down", she continued in a murmur, taking in her own words in sudden awareness, "It won't bring you back to the way things were".

The old man closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh.

"Aaah…", he smiled, "Then I am not the only one."

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Elizabeth had resumed her staring at the door, and had not said anything else. But as she was just finally falling into a daze, a loud crash of metal echoed through the hall. The warden was on her feet in a split second and running to the front of her cell, where she realized that the two men guarding the door had been knocked out unconscious. Squinting through the obscurity of the hall, the warden deciphered two shapes in the shadows, recognizing Zevran and Alistair.

"Alistair!", her voice had broken at the end of pronouncing his name. After all, he was the only ray of sun she possessed in all her darkness. The templar ran to her cell as the elf fidgeted with the lock of the door.

"Elizabeth", he whispered, trying to reach out to her through the bars but unable to pass his hands between them. The two wardens simply looked at each other until the Zevran was finally done with the lock. The moment their bodies touched filled with passion and joy. But they could not linger here.

"Let's get you out of here", Alistair softly demanded after he lightly kisser her lips, "Your armor and weapons are in the Prisoner's belongings room, not far from here."

But before the templar could take her out, Elizabeth pulled on Zevran's arm, forcing him to turn around and face her.

"Zev, please. Can you open this man's cell?", she bid him forcefully. As the elf executed her request and managed to free the old man, the female warden stood close to Alistair. She couldn't even dare take a step away from him, or let go of his arm.

"Thank you.", the old man blurted. Emotion filled his voice. It seemed he was eager to finally see the sun again.

The two fugitives and the two men that had helped them escape fled through the fortress, running over the bodies of the guards Alistair and Zevran had silenced in order to get to their warden friend. Finally, they made it to the final door that led to the open. To freedom. This is where they would part.

"I don't even know your name", Elizabeth inquired shaking her head in a beaten up way as she turned to the old man.

"Hieronimo", the old man replied as he glanced back at her, stopping at the entrance of the fortress they had been imprisoned in, "Until we meet again, Warden". And with a respectful bow of his head, he disappeared through the door.

Elizabeth walked out of the Fort, shouldered by her two friends. And as she watched the old man run away in the night, she whispered silently.

"So long, Hieronimo"

* * *

The night's sky was dark and cloudy, and the stars could not been seen. _A sign that the weather will be bad for the next day,_ Elizabeth thought to herself in her candle-lit room. She stood by the window, her mind going in a thousand directions at once.  
Everyone in the mansion had been awaiting their return from Fort Drakon. Even Anora. And when she had walked inside the estate, a wave of relief washed over her companions and hosts. But something in the way they looked at her betrayed their disturbance towards what had happened in Howe's estate. They had heard news of it, word travelled fast in such a city.  
Elizabeth was no fool, she could see their horror and apprehension. They were looking at her like she was some kind of monstrous animal. Some even looked at her as if she needed to be put down. Even Alistair was a bit uneasy with her.

Alistair. Frustration built inside of her as she thought about him. The idiot barely spoke to her and didn't even dare to look at her in the presence of the arl. Truth was he did not want to jeopardize their credibility as Grey Wardens, or even their relationship as a whole. When she had tried to talk to him, he had gently brushed her away. Eamon rarely left his side. She even wondered if the man would be sleeping in front of his room on the ground like the good mabari he was.

_Screw this,_ the female warden thought. Everyone would most likely be asleep and she did not want to be alone anymore.

Walking out of her room and holding a copper candlestick for light, she walked through the obscurity of the corridors, silently brushing past the tall paintings on the wall. Finally arriving at Alistair's door room, she gave a quiet knock on his door. But not getting any response, she walked inside the unlit room.

"Elizabeth?", Alistair's voice was muffled for she had probably woken him up. He lay in his bed under the sheets and the female warden, putting down her candle on the small table approached him.

"Scooch", she bid him in a whisper. He executed himself but not without an argument.

"You shouldn't be here! What if someone comes? What about tomorrow morning when the servants-?"

"I don't care", the young girl cut in, "I don't want to be alone". She pulled the sheet up to her shoulders as Alistair sighed and wrapped his arms around her slim figure, one hand gently caressing the soft skin of her arm. They lay in silence for a couple of seconds.

"Alistair?", the female warden called out.

"Mmh?". The templar was already falling back into sleep.

"Do you really not want to be King?"

Alistair's eyes opened to meet Elizabeth's in the dark. She seemed so tired, so…woebegone.

"We've already had this conversation-"

"But always with Eamon around. So tell me, really. What do you want?", the young girl bid him.

"What I want…", the answer seemed to burn his throat.

"I'm a Grey Warden", he finally muttered, "It is who I am. Ruling a country is…", he paused, bringing Elizabeth closer into his arms before adding, "Terrifying."

"Good", the female warden answered, "Because I told Anora I'm siding with her. She's the only way we'll win the Landsmeet."

Alistair frowned slightly at Elizabeth's words. But whatever she had in mind, he believed he could trust her. Even if part of his gut told him something was off. The two wardens did not speak another word until Elizabeth spoke up again.

"Do you love me?". Alistair chuckled quietly.

"What's with all the questions tonight, my dear? Feeling chatty, I see!". But when he realized the girl before him did not smile at his usual humor, he cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"Of course I love you Elizabeth."

"Even with what I did to Howe? Even for everything that I did? Or might do?", the young girl queried, almost in an imploring way.

Alistair studied her dark eyes. He remembered seeing her the first time at Ostagar, her perfect face freshly cut in two places. The scars had healed now, but their vividness was striking. She was not the person he had met at Ostagar. She had grown into something stronger, more pragmatic, perhaps… Cruel at times. But she had also grown into someone who fought for the Lost. Whoever they might be.

"Come what may", he whispered in his ear and softly kissing his forehead, "I'll be around."


	20. Adieu

**A/N** : _When I started writing 'Goodbye, Halcyon Days', I had the very last three chapters already written in mind. It's almost weird to realized I finally got here. Chapter 21 & 22 will be released at the time time, considering 22 will be the Epilogue. I'm a bit sad that this is almost the end! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't hate me too much for it, It was probably one of the hardest thing I had to write._

_Thank you Tigress, without you this whole story would have never happened._

_All belongs to Bioware _

* * *

**20. Adieu**

Alistair had never been an anxious person. Yes, he tended to be nervous from time to time, and very awkward in certain situations mainly involving his fellow warden, but it was mostly caused by his lack of self-assurance. In fact, Alistair was someone who thrived under pressure, most of the time at least. But ever since they had arrived in Denerim and the Landsmeet only a handful of days away, the templar had been nothing _but_ anxious. His mind wandered off and he could barely concentrate on the tasks that were asked of him, he babbled on and on every time Eamon was around, and he simply could do nothing with his body except to fidget it around in a restless manner. The fact that Elizabeth left him grounded at the estate really had not helped either. Keeping his mind off of things would have really soothed his agitation, or swinging his sword at something would have evaporated the stress. But no, his "fearless leader", as Wynne liked to call her, had not listened to a word of his pleas and had ordered him to stay where he was, telling him he could swing his sword at a dummy in the courtyard. If it had not been for Leliana, Alistair would have probably done so.

The bard had insisted that he accompany her to the market. Again. The warden did not know why this Orlesian obsession of pretty things was so carved into the woman's mind , but being dragged along from shop to shop made him almost miss Eamon's company.

"What do you think?", Leliana asked joyfully as she pulled out an orange dress with golden seams from one of the shop's shelves, making him snap out of his petulant stream of thought.

He really wondered how she could do it, be so carefree and untroubled when the Blight was looming over them all. Or with the Landsmeet just a day away.

"I think…", he started, trying to be as pleasant as he could. After all, Leliana was just trying to help him, "I think it will make you look like a giant carrot".

Her whole expression fell as she hastily put away the dress back into place. Alistair couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Lel, I'm joking! It would look great on you…", he smiled, "You know, if you love vegetables to boot."

Leliana shook her head in amusement and walked off to the small jewelry stand across the room. Alistair followed her, dragging his feet.

"So you're not getting it?", he inquired.

"Maybe later…", the bard answered absent-mindly. She was staring with great interest at a pair of gold earrings. "Morrigan would love these!"

Alistair rolled his eyes and groaned at the mention of the witch. His day would have just become the worse day of his life if that pestiferous wretch had tagged along. Lucky for him though, Elizabeth brought her everywhere she went.

"Oh Alistair…", the bard scolded, keeping her eyes on the necklaces, "Don't be so negative. You've been nothing but gloomy for the past few days and it really isn't like you". She raised her blue eyes and added with a playful smile, "Besides, Morrigan isn't that bad."

The warden scoffed. "Hah! You mean she's more of a general offense and needs to be dealt with. Urgently."

Alistair took a few steps away from the bard and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. A couple of seconds passed where he was deep into his thoughts again. But he was soon pulled out of them by Leliana's words.

"For what it is worth, Alistair, I think you would make a great King."

The warden raised his eyes to her in awe. Eamon had told him so many times, but hearing it from one of his friends was oddly… Actually, he wasn't sure how it made him feel. A mixture of comfort, apprehension perhaps, and of course, anxiety.

"I…", he wasn't sure what to answer, "I don't know".

And he truly didn't. Part of him didn't want to be King. Leading was not his thing per sey he had made that very clear to his companions and especially to Elizabeth. But at the same time, he felt that if he had made his way to the Landsmeet intact, it was perhaps for a reason. The Maker only knew the real answer.

"It doesn't matter", he continued, "Elizabeth told Anora she was supporting her".

"Oh", Leliana answered, a faint frown forming on her juvenile face. She shook her head in disapproval and sighed, "I suppose it makes sense."

Alistair frowned, "What makes sense?"

"That she would want to keep her lover around", Leliana replied matter-of-factly, "You can't possibly think your relationship would carry on if you became King?"

The templar pondered on the bards words. She was right, but Alistair couldn't believe Elizabeth would decide such a thing according to her own needs. He also didn't want to talk about it and bid her to change the subject. And so they did. Streaming one last time through the jewelry, Leliana suddenly caught sight of a ring.

"This would suit Elizabeth, I think", she pointed out as Alistair approached her to look at what she had found. And he was surprised to see the bard was right. The ring was made of a polished silver with a large, round emerald supported by tiny black diamonds that circled the green stone and lined the silver band. It was a rather original ring, and its look was rather unique. Alistair brooded over the item for a bit.

"See anything you like?"

He had been approached by the merchant of the store. Tearing his eyes from the ring he realized Leliana had left his side and had made her way back to the carrot dress. He looked back at the merchant, who was smiling at him.

"Er, yes", he pointed to the emerald band, "That ring right there. How much is it?"

The merchant's smile widened. "Ah! Duplicity!"

Alistair frowned, "I'm sorry… What?"

"Duplicty!", the merchant responded with enthusiasm, "That's the name of the ring!". He opened the glass case in which the jewelry lay and delicately took it out to hand it to Alistair so he could take a closer look. "Dwarven-made. I acquired quite by chance actually! Some female dwarf came by my caravan one day as I was travelling the land and sold it to me. Some tragic story of treachery. I don't even remember… Her fiancé had given it to her.", the merchant snorted loudly as he gave an energetic smack on Alistair's back, "You know how dwarfs are! With their back-stabbing and what not!". And on these words, he broke into a thick laugh. Alistair blinked, silent, at the word 'fiancé'.

"This is an engagement ring?", was all he asked.

The merchant groaned.

"It can be whatever in Andraste's dirty knickers you want… It's three sovereigns! But for you, I'll make it 2 sovereigns and 80 silvers.", he gestured to Leliana, "Your friend there is a faithful client."

Alistair looked down at the shiny ring in his palm and studied it for a second. If he gave it to Elizabeth… It didn't have to mean anything. And if she wanted it to mean something, then it would, simple as that! He tried to convince himself that they had time, and yet, another part of him seemed to warn him about being confident in the future. Nothing was certain. Surviving the Blight, was not certain. Perhaps this very ring… Could mean everything.

And so against all odds, he took out his pouch of gold and bought the ring.

As the two companions walked out of the store, Leliana carrying her wrapped up dress in her arms and Alistair putting away the small box which held the ring in his bag, they made their way back to the estate in a rush. The sky was grey and dark, the light almost nonexistent even though it was early afternoon. They did not want to be caught in the rain, and already, a few drops were coming from the sky.

As they approached the gate to the courtyard, Alistair realized Eamon and Elizabeth were standing in the middle, both looking extremely edgy. Had the female warden come back from the Alienage that early?

"There you are!", the arl exclaimed as he made his way to the courtyard. Elizabeth and everyone else had seemed to be waiting for their return. "We need to call the Landsmeet immediately! Go put your armor on! We'll explain on the way!"

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.

When Alistair entered his room he saw that his armor had been brightly polished. It proudly stood on the armor stand, the glorious griffons shining on the chestplate. His long sword lay on his tidily arranged desk, and neatly sitting next to it was not his usual Redcliff shield, but a square shaped one. Approaching it, he saw a griffon crusted on the silver large plate and instantly recognized it as Duncan's. Next to it lay a note : Elizabeth's neat and round handwriting.

'_My Dearest,_

_I believe this is rightfully yours. I found it in the Warden's armory and thought it would perfectly mach your armor. It seems Duncan had not taken it with him __to__ Ostagar, or so Riordan told me._

_You can thank me later._

_Yours eternally,_

_Elizabeth.'_

Running his hand on the smooth metal, he felt a growing lump in his throat. He sighed as his heart filled with affection towards his fellow warden. Truth was, he did not know what he had done to deserve such a blissful love.

He hastily dressed, and grabbing the velvet box which held the ring he had just bought he stuffed it in the pouch that he tied to his belt. He would thank her later. And do so much more, down on one knee.

* * *

Elizabeth had never been an anxious person. She was collected and calm by nature. She observed, rather than talked. She considered her options, analyzed the situation, questioning and comparing, but always in a state of complete silence. Her mute behavior had often won her the description of being taciturn and cold. The distance she put between herself and the world had been caused in the past by her constant daydreaming, but was now due to her absolute need to compartmentalize. Over the year, she had grown into a very manipulative woman.

The only reason she had told Anora she was siding with her was because she knew perfectly well the woman was a cold-hearted bitch and that if she had not been assured that her power would remain intact, she would have gladly stabbed them in the back. A family trait, so it seemed. In fact, Elizabeth had found a bit of herself in the woman, so much so that it had been a child's play to decipher her craving to rule. What the warden had not deciphered though, was in fact if the Queen cared or not if her own father lived. Elizabeth had a feeling that if she had told her she was siding with Alistair, the woman would have stood by her father's side at the Landsmeet. But instead, she had supported the wardens, pleading her father's madness.

It startled the female warden greatly.

No, Elizabeth had never been an anxious person, but seeing the traitor of the wardens, general of the passed-away King's armies, hero of River Dane, kneel down before her after she had won their dual, filled her with worry and unease. There was something in his surrender that seemed almost… Genuine. And at that very moment, anxiety filled her whole body and mind.

Elizabeth recognized Anora's terror and desperation as the queen realized her father's life was going to be taken away and that she would not be able to do a thing about it. It seemed she cared, after all. Somewhere, deep inside, Elizabeth recognized the look in her eyes. A look she had worn on her face a year ago. A look she had carried on her journey. A look who's pain was not something she wanted anyone to feel, not even her greatest enemy.

Elizabeth recognized Duncan's teaching in Riordan's words. When the Blight was so close to dooming them all, they should not mistake who the real enemy was. The archdemon, the darkspawn, they were the real threat. If Justice had to be done, it should not be during these troubled times. Elizabeth was not sure why the Grey Wardens were the only ones who could defeat the Blight. She guessed it had something to do with their tainted blood but… What exactly? It was still a mystery. Perhaps making Loghain a Grey Warden would increase their chances if one of them had to fall. Four was better than three after all. And besides, being a Grey Warden was far from the heroic stories you could hear. There was nothing but darkness in the title. Tainted darkness.

Riordan was right : it was not a matter of what they liked, but of what had to be done.

And finally, Elizabeth recognized Alistair's indignation at the very idea of letting Loghain live. She understood. Alistair had always said the Wardens were like a family to him, as odd as it sounded to her. And she herself had spent a whole year planning on making Howe pay for what he had done. Telling Alistair that his retribution was not important would have been hypocritical. But these circumstances were different.  
She understood. But there were higher risks at stake. No Orlesian wardens were coming. Only the darkspawn.  
And she didn't want die. She didn't want Alistair to die.  
He'd understand. He always understood. After all, he loved her, and she, him.

And yet, when she accepted Loghain's surrender, she felt Alistair's righteous anger break like a wave during a violent storm.

"Absolutly NOT. Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed! He haunted us down like animals, he tortured YOU! How can we simply forget that?"

Elizabeth took a shy step towards the agitated warden, _her _agitated warden, and gently rested her gloved hand on his arm. Her soft touch made him jerk towards her. Her saw in her emerald eyes an urge to trust her, but also a fierce kind of devotion.

"Alistair", her voice was gentle, "Don't. It is not our place. It could be a way for him to pay back for what he has done."

But the warden violently pulled away and took two steps back. His frown held all of his perplexity and fury.

"Being a Warden is an honor, not a punishment! Name him a warden and you cheapen us all!", he brutally cut the air with his arm, "I will NOT stand next to him as a brother. I WON'T!"

His sudden rejection was like a needle digging into the female warden's heart. A shadow passed over her eyes darkening them.

"Being a Grey Warden is a death-sentence and you know it". She had said these words gravely, with all the bitterness she held in her heart. Alistair was acting like a spoiled child who was not getting what he wanted and it infuriated her. But his following statement made her realize how much, in fact, he wanted Loghain dead. And how much he was putting himself before others.

"I didn't want to be King. I still don't. But, if that's what it takes to see Loghain get justice, then I'll do it! I'll take the crown!"

And then Anora pointed out the obvious. Alistair was in fact putting his own selfish desires above the need of his country. Of course, the queen was not objective. And yet. Elizabeth grabbed Alistair and pulled him close, locking her angry eyes into his.

"Get a hold of yourself Alistair. We need him. Four wardens is better than three." But the templar would not hear her out.

"We need him like we need to get stabbed in the back! YOU told me once that I needed to stand up for myself. Well here I am! I'm STANDING! Make ME King, not HER!"

Elizabeth let go of her fellow warden and stepped away in distress, glancing back to Riordan. Why wasn't he helping her out? Why wasn't he trying to get some sense into Alistair? She suddenly felt the whole weight of the world on her weak and tired shoulders, and couldn't do it anymore.

"I'm sorry Alistair…"

His rage at her decision filled her mind with conflict. But his own decision to leave them, to leave her, shook her whole world. Anora spoke, saying exactly what Elizabeth was thinking.

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Alistair."

"You already GOT what you wanted!", the templar's voice was shaky, "Your murdering father gets a place amongst the Grey Wardens. What ELSE would you want from me?"

"Your life, unfortunatly. So long as you live, rebellions can be raised in your name. Our land cannot endure another civil war. I must call for your execution."

The queen gestured to the armed men behind her to seize him. But Elizabeth was faster than any guard in the room and drew her dagger out at the speed of light. She stepped in front of Alistair, raising her weapon in the air and threatening the queen or any other being who would take a step towards them.

"Don't you dare touch him. Don't you _dare_". Her eyes were dark, her tone cold, and she menaced everyone around with her glare. How could she be so reckless? Of course Anora would wipe out any threat to her rule. Behlen had done so and she had agreed to it. How could she have been so inattentive?

"I don't need you, Elizabeth", she heard Alistair hiss behind her. She could feel a lump in her throat as things were getting out of hand.

"But I need you", was all her cracked voice could say. No, beg.

She was in over her head.

"I am sorry Elizabeth", Anora started, as guards made their way from behind Alistair and grabbed his arms, "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

The female warden glanced back and saw Alistair surrounded by guards. She took a step towards the Queen, her right hand still armed.

"Let. Him. Go." She roared, anger flowing in her blood, "Or you're the one who'll be sorry."

Elizabeth guessed she wouldn't break under simple threats, and she didn't. The woman simply locked her icy blue eyes into hers and shook her head.

"I will kill everything and anything that you ever loved and lay hands on, Maker preserve me, if you don't let him go."

Anora studied the warden close to her for a second and after a moment, ordered her men to step down. She also ordered the templar to resign the throne for himself and any heirs.

His answer was cold as ice.

"I don't want ANYTHING to do with this place or any of you people. EVER. I swear it!", he had turned his amber eyes towards Elizabeth as he had pronounced these last words. They burnt with anger and agony. Hers did too.

"I… I guess this is goodbye. I had no idea it would end like this for us…"

But Elizabeth could not believe him. She would not. Because everything seemed to be a nightmare. Because it felt like she was in a daze.

She remained silent, unable to answer to the only thing she loved in this world. She simply stared at him in distress. She couldn't understand why he was doing this. She wouldn't. And because her mute behavior seemed to mean everything to Alistair, he turned his back to the thing he loved the most in the world and walked away.

"Alistair!"

Her cry reverberated across the hall but he did not turn around. Passing the door, he fled down the stone stairs that led to the streets of the city. Rain was thrashing against him, the violent drops raw on his skin. _The storm has come around after all_, he thought, as the roaring thunder drummed against the fortress.

"ALISTAIR!"

Elizabeth had run out after him. Of course she had. She was stubborn, bossy, and never took no for an answer. This time around though, she would just have to accept it. Alistair's rapid strides increased as he heard the female warden get closer behind him. He didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to see her anymore. Not ever. But Elizabeth was faster than any woman he knew and she grabbed him by the shoulder, promptly turning him around with force.

She looked devastated and mad, out of her mind. How could he not have seen this earlier? All the signs. All of her pragmatism. Of course she would betray him.

"Don't go", she pleaded. She looked as if she was about to fall on her knees and clasp her hands to the sky, "I BEG you, PLEASE DON'T GO". Her voice was hysterical. She was overwhelmed, in over her head. Things had not been going according to her plan and it drove her crazy. Served her well.

Alistair was out of his mind too, and trembled in anger.

"YOU BETRAYED EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE!", his roar sank into the female warden's ears, "YOU BETRAYED ME! HOW COULD YOU? How… Ah, I can't even look at you…" The templar's voice broke, and he turned his back to Elizabeth. Putting one hand on the closest barrier, he leaned against it as if unable to sustain himself anymore. His heart was breaking inside of his chest and he could barely hold on to his tears. Elizabeth on the other hand, was letting them stream down her face.

"It's me!", she begged, trying to reach out to his hand. But the templar violently drew it away, "I'm not… It's me!". She was confused, she barely believed that Alistair out of everyone would turn his back on her.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth", he muttered, closing his eyes , determined not to let the tears fall down his face, "Take care of yourself". And the warden marched on. But Elizabeth had not said her last word.

"DUNCAN WOULD HAVE BEEN SO PROUD OF YOU DESERTING!"

Her unkind words hung in the air. But that cruelty was nothing but the expression of her profound pain. Alistair stopped mid track. As he turned around he ferociously threw a small velvet box at her face. But Elizabeth _was_ the fastest woman he had ever met and she swiftly appeared before him. Her knife to his throat.

When their eyes met, he saw that her pain had turned into Wrath. Painful wrath, none the less.

"Deserter", she accused him, "You know what we do with Deserters". Alistair just stared into her eyes. These emerald eyes he had once cherished more than anything else.

"I thought you were a Grey Warden", she continued with a solemn voice, "I thought Grey Wardens didn't walk away from a Blight."

He didn't answer. He didn't answer because he knew she was right. Her weapon was still raised to his neck and she stared at him in dismay, her rapid breathing lifting her chest up and down .

"I thought you loved me".

Alistair softly put his hand over Elizabeth's and slowly lowered her knife to her side.

"Well you finally get something right", he breathed in pain, "I loved you".

He looked into her eyes for the last time, and walked away without turning back as the heavy rain continued to fall on Denerim. His words had been as murderous as poison. Elizabeth could feel them running through her veins.

Exhausted, hopeless, she fell to her knees in a puddle of mud. What had she done? Why had he not understood what was at stake? Slowly, his last words numbed the pain that ran through her body. Slowly, all she could feel was only the rain and her wet hair on her face. She looked at the box in her hand. The one Alistair had thrown at her.

And as she opened it, her heart shattered to pieces.


	21. Maker, Have Mercy

_**A/N** : Well, it has finally come to these final chapters. I apologize they are not longer, but it seemed better that way. I just could not write another word, it was hard enough! I want to say somewhere that this was the hardest thing I ever had to write, even harder then the previous chapter. Letting go of Elizabeth was pretty hard. Literally!_  
_Thank you so much for following this story, for the views, and for those who reviewed my chapters. It meant so much! But stay tuned in, I have another fiction at the back of my head *grins*_

_Everything belongs to Bioware. _

_And a final "Thank you" to my amazing beta and friend Tigress, for all the support she gave me, all the marvellous comments and editing._

* * *

**21. Maker, Have Mercy**

Silence filled the void of the castle. The heavy stillness between the walls brought back memories Elizabeth had tried so many times to forget. The crackling flames of the fire bathed her scarred face in an orange light. Hideous markings from the past, she had once told him.

How long had she been standing in this quiet room? Motionless, frozen, mute. How long?

There was something in the seclusion of it all that that made her feel stranded, abandoned, left behind. Truth was, tonight there were no arms that would soothingly wrap around her. No loving whisper in her ear. No goodnights. Just a lump in her throat. A quiver of her lower lip. Dampness in the corner of her eye.

And slowly, just as surely as it had all appeared, everything else gradually faded away. Little by little, bit by bit, her heart let go of everything it had been holding on to. The pain. The anger. Especially the anger. The unanswered questions, the undeniable responses. But also every bright smile, every laugh. Memories of the warmth of the sun on her skin, his warmth against her skin. The falling rain on her face, the sound of music, the smell of old books, how small she felt when she watched the stars.

His smile. Especially his smile.

Slowly, but surely. She forgot. Or maybe she just pushed it all away in a corner of her heart. It was strange for her now to have been hoping against all odds that he would come back. She half expected him to be around every corner, in every room. Waiting in front of each fireplace. Under the sheets of her bed. His memory haunted her like a melancholic phantom.

But he never came. And deep inside she knew he never would.

Little by little, bit by bit, her heart transformed into a diamond-hard rock. But it didn't shine. It didn't sparkle. She resented anyone and everyone. She blamed her companions and she blamed the arl. She blamed the Wardens and Teagan and the Blight. She blamed the Maker. She blamed herself.

She fell on her knees and prayed to the sky for the first time in over a year. But her pleas remained unanswered. She was speaking to a silent entity. And his wordless reply made her realize that despite what she had been taught, she was truly alone against it all.

And that was all that remained. Her solitude.

Riordan's words did not frighten her.

When she understood her fate, she did not shift. She did not grieve or try to bargain once again with her silent god. Why be afraid of death? She no longer lived, she only mimicked life.

Carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, she marched on. What else could she do?

She had become comfortably numb. Frozen and deadened. A machine. What else could she do besides forget it all, and march on? Even Morrigan could not stop her.

"_I have a plan you see, a way out. The loop in your hole"_

But nothing could change her mind. She had been living a dark dream, but a dream none the less, and now that it had faded away she could do nothing but hurt at his absence. Wasn't there a song that asked what was the point to live from reverie to reverie?

Frozen. Morrigan had barely believed what she was hearing and had screamed in fury at the dead warden in front of her before exiting the stage.

"_Then you are a reckless fool to throw your whole world away!"_

But Elizabeth's world had walked out on her at the Landsmeet. How could she throw away something that was no longer here?

The witch's walkout had not hurt as much as she would have thought. Maybe she was getting used to it, after all. And still, his absence was more and more agonizing by the minute.

And so before leaving to battle, she sat down at the wooden desk of her room, mechanically, and poured out the remainder of what was left inside of her beating heart on a blank page of vellum. Perhaps he'd never read it. And perhaps, perhaps one day he would.

* * *

_And so is the Golden City blackened…_

The Chant of Light resonated in her head like a vanishing remembrance as the Old God collapsed to the ground. Taking in her surroundings, she watched the top of the tower being overwhelmed by tainted creatures, their shrieks slashing the oppressing air. Their corpses mingled with those of the Dalish Elves she had ordered to her side. A handful remained, fighting desperately against the never ending waves of monsters assaulting them on each side. She watched her companions fight helplessly along side of her. She watched Loghain straighten himself up, and acknowledging the archdemon's defeat. He turned around and bowed his head to her, in a final goodbye. But she wouldn't let him die a hero. She did not need him anymore.

… _W__ith each step you take in my Hall._

As the Hero of River Dane turned his back on the warden, she tightly gripped the dagger she held in her right hand and launched herself at the resolved and clueless warrior. His armor was substantial, but she knew every dent, every opening. In a fit of madness, she pushed her dagger inside of the man's body without another thought. He collapsed in her arms, meeting her stare as the truth of her treachery dawned on him. His widened eyes seemed to plead with her. But she was nothing but an empty soul as she slowly laid him down.

_Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting._

She stood as fast as she had kneeled down, looking up at the dying demon. Its dark eyes seemed to stare straight through her soul and there seemed to be a common understanding between the two. Demon and Warden. Enemies. And yet, so similar in every possible way. Elizabeth grabbed the closest sword that had been left amidst the battle and in a last stride of hope, dashed it inside of the beast's head.

_You have brought Sin to Heaven__, __and doom upon all the world._

This is not what she had dreamed of when she was a little girl. As the world around her shifted and changed, her thoughts remained on the last year of her life. Her sight lingered on the emerald ring she wore on her left hand. And thus, closing her eyes, she whispered her last words before giving in to the light that was engulfing her.

"Maker"

Her body collapsed to the ground as a single tear escaped her eye.

"Maker, have mercy"

In one of her clenched hands, lay a withered rose.


	22. Epilogue

**22. Epilogue**

_My dearest,_

_I feel certain I am going mad again. And you are not here to bring me back to life. Where are you? I look for you everywhere and you're nowhere to be found. I thought we would be together forever. I thought you loved me enough to understand that everything I did, I did for you. Where did you go?_

_We were suppose to grow old together. I had picked the name of our children and I would have taught them how to ride a horse and you would have played with them with wooden swords. But it seems even these fantasies would have never been true. Who knew becoming a Warden would also mean being taken away the right to be __with child__. All I ever wanted was to have a normal life. I never thought…_

_You know why I spared Loghain. Explaining it again would seem senseless. Why were you such a stubborn fool? Why couldn't you see that there were higher risks at stake? Revenge doesn't change a thing. Retribution only brings more pain to your heart. You were always too soft. I miss you. I wish you had understood. But maybe, maybe we were not right for each other after all. _

_Perhaps you'll never read this letter. Perhaps, if this ever gets to you, you might not even want to lay eyes on it. And even if the odds are close to nothing, I have to believe in at least something. Even when all hope seems reckless._

_Before this reaches you, I will be no more. The future holds nothing but illness and the alienating Deep Roads. I hope one day you'll learn to forgive me. I hope one day you'll understand that there was nothing left for me here._

_I know you'll be in my heart until I catch my last breath._

_I'm yours, now and forever._

_Elizabeth._

_P.S. __ The reason the Grey Wardens are a necessity to slay the archdemon is because if anyone else kills it, only its body will die whereas its soul will transfer to the closest darkspawn. An immortal cycle. When a Warden slays it, __the old god's soul is destroyed, alongside of the sacrificed warden__. I don't want to die. And yet._

_Farewell. Wherever you fare._

* * *

Teagan's hand closed in on the crumbled letter he had found on the deceased warden's desk. Some words had been erased with what seemed to be tear drops, the black ink smudging on the crushed piece of vellum. His heart dimly tightened at how much meaning this letter held. That the hero of Ferelden had been deeply in love with Alistair. That he had left her. That she had died, but not only to end the Blight. And that they would never see each other again. At least, not in this lifetime.

He did not know where Alistair had gone. But now that the Blight had ended, he promised to himself, and promised to the heavens where Elizabeth now stood, that he would find him, and bring to him the truth.


End file.
